


Finding Ourselves in You

by Arowen12



Series: Reflections [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Background Rose Ōtoribashi/Love Aikawa, Gen, Healer Ichigo, Ichigo can see spirits, Manipulative Kisuke, The Vizard - Freeform, family fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-07-06 11:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15885087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arowen12/pseuds/Arowen12
Summary: “Ichigo you said his name was?”Kisuke asked turning from where his eyes had been glued to the baby to glance at Masaki. She nodded with a half smile, her eyes falling to the crib and the small lifeform tucked inside. One that had the potential to defeat Aizen when they wouldn’t be able to. The Queen of the philosophical chess board.Grey eyes connected with deep brown and instinctively Kisuke knew that his plans would not survive this child.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I am here with a new Bleach fic. This fic was requested by LittleUnknownFighter with the idea of a family fic focusing on the Vizard. I hope you all enjoy the first chapter!
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo

X

The baby was small, almost incredibly so, with rosy cheeks, pouty lips, and the biggest most adorable brown eyes Kisuke had ever seen. The tiny fluff of orange hair on the baby’s head was interesting, likely a herald to the Kurosaki’s earlier Matriarch Megumi who had sported the same bright shocking near unbelievable hair in the portrait Kisuke had found when he had been snooping. It was the same hair she had passed onto Masaki, though the young Quincy had only inherited a softer shade.

“Ichigo you said his name was?”

Kisuke asked turning from where his eyes had been glued to the baby to glance at Masaki who was tucked into Isshin’s arms with a sort of weariness to her features. Isshin was beaming as if the world itself lay at his feet. The scientist silently prayed for the baby who would have to deal with Isshin’s overbearing Shiba antics.

Masaki nodded with a half smile, her eyes falling to the crib and the small lifeform tucked inside. One that had the potential to defeat Aizen when they wouldn’t be able to. The Queen of the philosophical chess board. Masaki with her sharp eyes but ditzy smile knew that as she nodded running one hand through her hair and commenting, “Yes, Isshin says the name has been in his family for decades, regardless of its ulterior meanings. But I think it suits him don’t you Urahara-san?”

The mother finished with a flick of her hair and a snap of her eyes. Kisuke hid the shiver of fear that traced his spine at the way the young woman had pronounced his name with all the frayed danger of Unohana-taicho. The scientist silently and dutifully acknowledged that mothers were not a force to be tampered with and nodded his head in a subdued manner. The Quincy woman studied him for a moment with all the ice of the Siberian Fortress in her veins before she nodded and returned her attention to Isshin; who had missed the whole interaction and was as usual completely oblivious.

The two parents spoke to each other in quiet whispers about the adjustments they would need to make to their small home. Masaki briefly mentioned her cousin returning to Karakura town with his wife after a trip outside the country, “and they had a child maybe we should visit them?”

Kisuke returned his attention to the small lifeform in the crib and acknowledged the near-invisible presence of Yoruichi as she entered the room quiet as a cat. Large brown eyes stared up at Kisuke with a love so unfounded and underserved that the blond-haired scientist almost found himself speechless in his thoughts. It was like glancing into the void and having the void welcome you regardless of past sins or mistakes.

Yoruichi slipped beside Kisuke and peered into the crib staring at the baby for a moment with an unreadable expression. One that was like carved stone and bore resemblance to the Shihōin statues resting throughout the large mansion Kisuke had raced through in his youth. There was something in Yoruichi’s beautiful features that reminded him of the Onmitsukidō and how in the face of duty, morals weren’t an option.

He wondered or rather knew that the former Captain of the Second was considering that as she stared into Ichigo’s big brown eyes and the baby happily gurgled at her. For a split second, at the wide toothless grin, a small smile slipped across Yoruichi’s features, faint and hardly noticeable if one didn’t know the woman incredibly well. But Kisuke did know Yoruichi incredibly well (after all, it had always been them and Tessai) and the smile left the scientist wondering if Yoruichi wanted children.

The thought seemed somewhat absurd and abstract. The idea that Yoruichi; vicious, ruthless, and youthful Yoruichi wanted children spiralled around in Kisuke’s head for a while. Eventually, the scientist placed it in the box of things to contemplate and returned his attention to the former leader of the Onmitsukidō.

The cold look was on her features again, bright and sharp but something doubtful there and fragile that had appeared the day Aizen had shattered their world and left frayed knots. Yoruichi watched as the baby rolled on the cot and teethed on one of the many toys Isshin had loaded in there (probably too many but Masaki would handle it) and asked in a whisper as quiet as the breeze, “Are you sure about this Kisuke? He’s an innocent.”

Kisuke frowned at the statement. He knew it was true, he knew it in the deep marrow of his bones as he stared into those brown eyes and silently repeated a mantra about not getting attached. But they needed Ichigo and all the things he represented.

The small orange-haired babe in the crib represented their only hope for a future where the Hollows, Shinigami, and the Quincy could hope to work together. Ichigo was the only hope in defeating Aizen who already had a Hogyoku of his own and had numerous threads tangled every which way like a spider’s web; some even Kisuke couldn’t see. The child would be powerful, incredibly so, and their only hope.

Was it right to place that burden on the shoulders of a mortal soul? It couldn’t be, and Kisuke knew the excuse ‘for the greater good’ was as empty and full of holes as the place Soul Society once held in his heart were. But, it was the world or the innocence of a child, right?

“We have to. There’s no other way.”

Kisuke admitted in a tone that belayed the confliction the scientist so rarely felt. At heart, the blond followed the call of his mistress science, his mind tugging and following whatever path of inquisition it sought, and rarely did it question morality. But putting the weight of the world on the shoulders of a child, even to discover how a hybrid of his nature would evolve and adapt and all the potential theoretical outcomes? It felt wrong.

Yoruichi frowned but said nothing staring at the baby with those golden eyes, ones that reminded Kisuke of a predator hiding in the shadows, waiting, watching. Then the small lifeform (so incredibly small) gurgled happily at Yoruichi with a toothless smile and a crinkle of brown eyes and the hardened soldier of the Gotei 13 cracked and made cooing faces at the small child who burbled happily with laughter.

Kisuke muffled his own smile into the sleeve of the long yukata he wore; one that hid the scars from the civilians and left him feeling comfortable in his own skin. Letting his fingers dangle in the crib the blond scientist watched as the baby moved without a care, wide curious eyes absorbing the world around him. Suddenly, a tiny hand was wrapped around Kisuke’s pinkie, little fingers tugging tightly on the joint and grabbing the man’s attention.

Grey eyes connected with deep brown and instinctively Kisuke knew that his plans would not survive this child.

X

The daycare was a sunny sort of place, the walls were cream white and the art of children, whimsical and misshapen, decorated the walls. Ichigo huddled behind Masaki’s legs, stared happily up at his mother. He didn’t listen to the other children as they ran about screaming happily or battling over the toys or playing house. It was time for Ichigo to go home and at that moment the daycare and the nice Ms Homura didn’t matter. Or at least Ms Homura wouldn’t matter if she would stop talking to his mother about how Ichigo needed to play more with the other children, how he was a nice kid, loved reading, how he played doctor with the other children, and he was such a great big brother already.

Masaki laughed and rubbed her hand over her swollen stomach and Ichigo stared for a moment, wondering about his future baby sister or baby brother. What would they look like? Would they have orange hair? Would they like reading? Ichigo knew, however, that no matter what he would be a great big brother. His mother had told him so, and she was always right. Ichigo also knew that in order to be a great big brother he needed to protect his siblings and be really smart.

But first Ichigo wanted to go home so he tugged on his mother’s skirt. Masaki turned her head slightly, whispered a gentle, “In a minute,” and resumed speaking to the daycare teacher.

Ichigo frowned for a moment in consternation at being ignored before a flicker of something dark and very red out of the corner of his eye distracted the young toddler. Ichigo turned and squinted at the doorway studying it for a moment, waiting for whatever he saw to appear once more. Then it was there, a flicker of red fabric darting out of the doorway.

Determined to discover what the mysterious fabric was Ichigo glanced up once at his mother who was still conversing with the nice Ms Homura and toddled towards the doorway. Ichigo for all his bright orange-hair and adorable smile, was not particularly noticeable when he wanted to be. And if at that particular moment one of the children threw a tantrum well, that was just fate.

Ichigo slipped out of the wedged open doorway and with a determined look walked down the empty street. It was early in the afternoon and the daycare was in a quiet neighbourhood. There wasn’t much around, a convenience store, an old rundown candy store, and the road received little traffic. As Ichigo walked down the street, a bright red car passed by with a whoosh of mechanics catching the toddler’s eyes for a moment before the faint red fabric appeared once more. It reminded Ichigo of the flashes of black and white he sometimes saw hanging over his head at night.

It was the sound of humming in the air, not unlike the sound of a particularly hot summer’s day, that caught Ichigo’s attention and dragged his gaze from the sidewalk to the right. In the buzzing heat of the early afternoon stood a building. It was old and dilapidated looking, made of a plain wood with windows that were impossible to see through and a yard full of dust. There was also a conveniently located sign within Ichigo’s vision displaying the image of a faded lollipop.

Ichigo who had been taught the same lesson every child was about taking candy from strangers stared suspiciously at the sign for a moment. However, a light clatter from the shoji doors caught the toddler’s eyes and he watched as the intriguing piece of red cloth he had been following for what felt like ages disappeared inside. For a second, the young child stared in indecision before with a nod Ichigo climbed up the two wooden steps and with a great push slid the rice paper doors open.

The shop smelled like incense, dust, and quite obviously sugar. Rows of bins with faded colourful logos lined the walls and led to a desk at the end of the small and narrow room. Wide brown eyes gazed around the room at the slow-moving ceiling fan that whirled the hot air around and at the floor lined with whorls of wood, and finally at the candy itself. For a moment, Ichigo felt very scared and sad. He didn’t know where he was, or where his mom was, or if she would be angry with him; they had already talked about following spirits numerous times.

A rattle of doors clacking together drew the toddler’s attention and Ichigo glanced up to meet the sight of a man with a bright green hat with stripes and straw blond hair swaying out of the doorway which was billowing an ominous purple sort of smoke. The scientist paused while he adjusted his hat as if just noticing the presence of something else in his humble shop and glanced down the long aisles filled with candies. Many of which he had imported on request of the various neighbourhood children (and Shinji who was much the same).

The blond Shinigami dropped the fan he had been anxiously fluttering about as he contemplated his latest disaster of an experiment, wide eyes studying the small orange-haired enfant staring up at him. Part of Kisuke wanted to laugh but the rest of him was Very concerned as to the sudden appearance of a young Ichigo Kurosaki in the middle of his candy shop.

Deciding to sate his own curiosity and hopefully the ire of Masaki when she found him Kisuke plastered a gentle smile on his features and stepped out from behind the counter and crouched down to Ichigo’s level.

“So, brave wanderer how did you find my humble shop of various candies from across the known world?”

Kisuke asked in a tone of bravado enjoying the way Ichigo scrunched his brow and squinted at Kisuke in a suspicious manner. Those wide innocent brown-eyes flickered past Kisuke for a moment, landing on something invisible in the distance before returning to Kisuke with something less suspicious and more open. The toddler squished his lips together for a moment in what was undeniably an adorable expression before responding.

X

That was how Masaki found them fifteen minutes later, seated on the floor of the Urahara Shōten, a small pile of candy wrappers between the two and her son babbling happily about the adventures he wanted to go on when he was older. The worried mother leaned against the doorway for a moment taking the second to calm herself and put away the guilt and worry that had surged up and choked the words from her mouth in icy cold claws.

She watched for a moment longer as she regained her breath, noting the way Ichigo gestured with his arms in wide out flung motions, eyes bright and shining, animated in a way the toddler wasn’t at the daycare down the road. The former Captain of the Gotei 13 sat across from Masaki’s son, staring at the child with bright enchanted eyes as if the man had quite forgotten the boundless energy of life that a small child could contain, talking with the same excitement of her son about healing.

The young mother watched and wondered at the scientist who had aided the young Quincy, an enemy according to Soul Society when she had been in death’s grasp, who had continued to support the growing family held in the palm of her hand. She wondered at the looks the scientist had thrown at the child scrutinizing and full of speculation, and the change she could see now in the man. It was something recognizable in the mirror, that fierce desire to protect the small lifeform in front of you regardless of all other compactions.

Masaki Kurosaki wondered if Kisuke Urahara still desired to use Ichigo to further the plans of Soul Society, or if the man’s interests had changed.

Sparing a glance at the watch wrapped around her wrist Masaki realised Isshin would call if they didn’t return soon, the silly man full of far-flung concern and outrageous theories. Coughing lightly, she gathered Urahara’s attention and watched as Athena-grey eyes swung towards Masaki and the man’s face paled in fear; a part of her was vindictively pleased with the expression.

“Good afternoon Kurosaki-san.”

Kisuke greeted pleasantly gathering Ichigo’s attention at the words. The orange-haired toddler glanced up with a blinding grin ran forward and hugged his mother looking up at her with a grin and squinted eyes, reaitsu swirling almost visibly around the child. Kisuke stared and said nothing even as his thoughts raced at the potency of the child’s reaitsu. The Kurosaki matriarch laughed for a moment at her son’s actions ruffling a hand through brilliant orange locks before she beckoned the toddler forward.

“Hello, Urahara-san.”

The woman greeted with an edge of steel to her voice in a sudden switch from the smiling mother, warning that the man should have a sufficient explanation for everything. Ichigo unaware of the tension spiralling between the adults turned his attention to the flash of dark red he could see hovering out of the corner of his eyes and called after it. In the same moment, the back door to the Urahara Shōten slid open and Tessai stepped out with a searching glance.

The former Kido Corps leader paused as he observed the Kurosaki matriarch, her son, and his friend standing with his figurative hackles raised. Kisuke turned with an expression of relief at the large man’s sudden appearance and asked, “Tessai if it’s not any trouble, will you prepare some tea please?”

Tessai studied the room for a moment, noting everything that was lingering unsaid as Ichigo tottered around chasing at thin air. The man nodded and disappeared into the back room. Masaki’s brow furrowed at the scientist’s words, she didn’t really have time for tea with the enigmatic man. But she supposed as she studied the scientist with narrowed eyes, she needed an explanation and Isshin would (hopefully) survive a little while longer without her.

“Why don’t we head inside Kurosaki-san?”

Kisuke suggested with a placating smile and a tip of his hat. The Quincy considered the man for a moment before her eyes flickered to her son. Ichigo was chasing after something invisible, babbling about the colour red. The mother turned her attention to the scientist and raised a brow in partial confusion at the sight. For the most part, Masaki Kurosaki could see the vague outlines of the many spirits that haunted Karakura. But there was nothing in front of her son.

The former Captain of the Twelfth turned his attention to Ichigo with an inscrutable expression one that was wrapped up in layers of secrecy and thought. After a second, the man’s eyes flickered to Masaki and he stated softly, “There is no plus spirit there Kurosaki-san. Is it likely an imaginary friend?”

Masaki considered the question even as the wry man beckoned the woman inside his home. Picking Ichigo up in her arms to the happy giggle of the child Masaki responded, “Perhaps, but imaginary friends more commonly appear around at least five years old from what I’ve read.”

Kisuke chanced an intrigued glance at the mother at the mention of reading material charting childhood development. With a hum, he slid a door open and revealed a sitting room warmed by a light shade of yellow and pale brown. Masaki frowned as she settled on one of the seats set around a low table and set Ichigo on the ground; the child would prefer to explore.

“It is possible, but at the moment I can’t ascertain anything. When Ichigo is older, if he speaks to them and describes them we may be able to make inferences.”

The man suggested as he settled in his favourite chair that had just enough space for Yoruichi to sit beside him in her feline form. The mother across from him nodded appeased by the vague answer for a moment before cold brown eyes focused on Kisuke. The scientist swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry at the pure protectiveness that rose around the Kurosaki matriarch eerily reminiscent to Unohana but twisted with the wrath of a mother.

“Urahara-san why was my son in your store?”

Masaki questioned with a tone of ice. Kisuke fiddled with the sleeve of his haori for a moment running through words in his head as he tried to find a way to diffuse the situation that didn’t involve his head on a pike. The scientist sighed quietly but was saved from answering immediately as the door slid open and Tessai entered, a tray of tea balanced on the man’s arm.

Tessai nodded once, placed the tray on the table before them, and with a small grin at a staring Ichigo, left the room. Kisuke took a sip of the steaming tea allowing the familiar taste to calm his nerves and the way his hands wanted to anxiously flutter about even as Masaki repeated the motion her eyes never leaving Kisuke. Finally, the scientist glanced into the eyes across from him and honestly expressed,

“I didn’t lure your child here Kurosaki-san, I have no idea how he stumbled upon my store when there are a few other buildings of note to a toddler on this street. I can assure you that my intention was not to abduct your child in order to experiment or test his abilities in any way shape or form.”

The mother listened to the words with a calculating stare that reminded Kisuke of a viper, unblinking eyes watching each minute detail of his features. Masaki Kurosaki was just as terrifying as Yoruichi. Eventually, after a tense moment, where Ichigo obliviously clambered over the furniture, the mother leaned back in her chair and sipped at the tea.

“I am not fond of the idea of my son becoming a pawn in some grand game Urahara-san. Ichigo doesn’t deserve that and you know it,” Ichigo choose that moment to come along and tug at Kisuke’s haori with infinitely hopeful eyes as the man produced a candy from his voluminous sleeves. Masaki spared a smile and continued, “Swear to me on your honour that you will protect my child Urahara-san.”

The demand shocked Kisuke, leaving the man to stare wide-eyed for a moment before catching himself. It was a demand that felt impossible and all-consuming, dragging holes through everything the world would throw at the young toddler sucking happily on the red candy Kisuke had given him. It was also the only way to earn Masaki’s acceptance, to let the mother know that the scientist who had tempered a god cared for her son.

Kisuke stared into the pale amber coloured tea in his cup for a moment debating the merits of swearing a vow, one on his honour, whatever bastardized version existed. Some part of him, the part of Kisuke that justified his actions with the ‘greater good’ whispered that a promise could be broken. Kisuke knew this wasn’t one of those promises.

Glancing up from the mug in his hands, the former Captain of the Twelfth glanced into Masaki’s eyes and responded, “I swear to protect Ichigo in all the ways possible to me so that he may grow and live.”

The Kurosaki matriarch ran through the words in her minds before she nodded, something heavy on her shoulders easing slightly. Suddenly, Ichigo burst out, “Mom! The lady in the red dress answered me.”

The two adults traded concerned glances even as Masaki responded in excitement and Kisuke contemplated the meaning of the child’s words. Masaki, as she ran a hand through her son’s hair, glanced at the time before letting her flicker to the shopkeep across from her. Scooping Ichigo up Masaki said teasingly to her son, “It’s time to go now Ichigo, we need to have a talk about wandering off and your father is probably worried. Say goodbye to Kisuke-san.”

The orange-haired child pouted at the mention of his potential scolding but turned in his mother’s arms to wave at Kisuke with a big grinning smile that made Kisuke’s heart do a weird little happy tap dance. Masaki smiled in understanding and stepped closer to the man for a moment and whispered, “Next Tuesday stop by for dinner Urahara-san. You’re Ichigo’s godparent and you better start acting like one.”

The scientist took the warning and invitation for what it was with a nod, Athena-grey eyes serious and understanding beneath the brim of his favourite hat. Masaki smiled faintly and nodded once in parting before sweeping out the door. Kisuke watched the striking figure of the pregnant Kurosaki matriarch for a moment, the image of Ichigo smiling up at him flashing through the forefront of his mind as Kisuke wondered how a godfather was supposed to act.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and it’s set up for the future chapters. Reviews/comments are always appreciated, till next time!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, we are here with the second chapter! Thanks to everyone for all of the positive feedback on the last chapter. Just a warning and clarification for the last two scenes in this chapter, they deal heavily with grief and mourning and I know for some people that can be a bit triggering so just a fair warning. Also, when the events occur Ichigo is seven, so the timeline has been shifted a bit. I hope you all enjoy this one!
> 
>  
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo

X

The door to the Kurosaki home opened with the glide of well-oiled hinges, Kisuke Urahara stepped inside and slipped off his unassuming hat letting his shoulders settle slightly from the tight line they had drawn themselves into. If it was known he visited the home of the Kurosaki family on a regular basis, the potential fallout could be disastrous on both sides. The man surveyed the warm home with a fond smile, the scent of dinner lingering on the air, family photos lining the walls, and soft jewel tones instilling a peaceful aura.

The former Captain of the Twelfth division had only a moment of peace before the sound of running and thumping made themselves known and Ichigo, at the wonderful age of five, appeared around the corner with a bright grin. The scientist had only a moment to prepare himself before the grinning boy launched himself at Kisuke with a happy cry of, “Uncle Kisuke!”

The uncle in question caught Ichigo in his arms and spun the child around to the happy giggles and laughter of the orange-haired kid. Smiling in an unrestrained manner Kisuke set Ichigo onto the ground with a final spin and turned his attention to the hallway. Masaki appeared with the twins held in her arms, Yuzu with a bob of hair like spun-gold and the gentlest nature Kisuke had seen in a child, and Karin hair as dark as ebony and fire in her veins.

Masaki looked tired, the shadows beneath her eyes brilliant in the warmth of the evening. But the weariness was detracted by the soft smile on the mother’s features. Kisuke nodded once in greeting, grey eyes solemn for a moment in assurance even as he rose a brow in question. The mother spared a faint nod before her eyes drifted to her oldest child.

Ichigo was in the middle of rising from a bow, his eyes flickering to the left of Kisuke with something like respect coiled in the kid’s brown eyes. With a happy grin, Ichigo turned to Masaki and stated, “The Lady in Red says hi.”

At the statement, Ichigo’s head whipped around once more to stare at the empty space behind the shopkeep with something like an apology scrawled there as the child rubbed at the back of his head. Kisuke studied the scene with careful eyes, noting the way Ichigo’s reaitsu seemed to flow like an endless whirlwind around the child, even with the control Masaki had been trying to teach him. With his reaitsu reserves, Kisuke doubted the child would gain any semblance of control.

Masaki’s pretty brown eyes flickered to Kisuke with something imminent and worried, the kind that pleaded for an answer when all other avenues of research had been explored. Kisuke nodded once in understanding. Ichigo at that moment returned his attention to the adults, brown-eyes flickering between Kisuke and Masaki before he tugged on Kisuke’s much larger calloused hand and with a blinding grin ordered, “Come on! You have to hear about what we found in the garden yesterday.”

Kisuke let the small hand tug him into the living room, the tv was off and the back door was open, a pleasant breeze spilling into the room. Masaki followed Ichigo’s eager steps with a muffled grin and gracefully walked over to the pen at one side of the room, gently setting the twin girls down. Karin glared at Masaki for a moment with all the venom a toddler could possess, while Yuzu distracted herself with the toys.

Ichigo settled on the couch with a jump and a push wiggling back so that he was seated like a king upon his throne. The child tugged Kisuke beside him as Masaki disappeared into the kitchen for a moment.

The former Captain of the Gotei 13 listened as the child in front of him babbled about the caterpillar they had found in the garden and how their mother said it would be happy if it lived outside rather than inside, and how caterpillars would one day become butterflies because they went through something called metamorphosis, and they had learned that in school, and…

As Ichigo paused to take a breath chatty in the way most kids were when they had something to share, Kisuke interjected, “Nee Ichigo, you’re taking karate lessons right?”

Brown eyes blinked up at Kisuke wide and bright in a way that tugged at the former Onmitsukidō member’s heartstrings and reminded Kisuke why there were various projects on hold, so he could sit and listen to this small child talk. Ichigo nodded with a blinding grin, his eyes flickering briefly to his mother still in the kitchen before Ichigo leaned closer to Kisuke and responded as if telling a secret.

“Yep, Tou-san wanted me to take the lessons, Kaa-san didn’t like the idea, but Tou-san said it would teach me how to protect Karin and Yuzu. Kaa-san said yes but if I don’t like it then I can quit.”

Ichigo whispered before leaning back with a smile with all the force of the sun. Kisuke nodded with a small secretive grin of his own at the information even as underneath he processed what the conversation innocently relayed. Isshin wanted a son who took after the Shiba name, strong and able to fight, all attributes that would be well-suited in the (now derelict) plans to defeat Aizen. They had needed strength and power.

But Ichigo was at heart a mixture of both his mother and father, fierce and protective but with a softness and naivety to him, that would challenge Ichigo as he grew. It left Kisuke to wonder at the way Ichigo’s personality would shift, how he would weather the storm slowly creeping along the horizon. Karin was her father’s son and Yuzu her mother’s, but Ichigo was something of a hybrid.

“Do you like karate lessons Ichigo?”

Kisuke questioned after a second where the child’s eyes had unfocused to seat themselves on the seat to the direct left of the scientist. Ichigo blinked once, brown eyes focusing on Kisuke before a frown drew the child’s eyebrows down and Ichigo responded, “It’s fun to learn all of the moves. But Tatsuki, one of the girls at the dojo, always beats me no matter what!”

The uncle made a sound of consolation at the information which spread a smile across Ichigo’s features. A second later, Masaki appeared from the kitchen something soft to her eyes as she called out to her son, “Ichigo why don’t you go and see if the caterpillar you found is still in the garden so you can show Kisuke.”

Ichigo glanced at his mother with an excited grin at the mention of the soon to be butterfly and with a flutter of a wave at Kisuke the child darted out into the backyard. Kisuke watched for a moment, his eyes falling on the twins as they babbled to each other in the broken English of young toddlers. Masaki leaning against the doorway smiled with a tilt of her head and beckoned the former Captain to enter her domain.

The kitchen was perfumed with the scent of various spices as a pot boiled over the stove accompanied by a pan with sizzling fish. Masaki briefly checked on the food with a careful eye before she passed a steaming cup of tea to Kisuke and leaned against the counter. The scientist mimicked the motion sipping at the hot liquid and basking in the feeling of warmth that seemed to saturate the Kurosaki household.

“Where’s Isshin, still in the clinic?”

Kisuke questioned and Masaki frowned for a moment her eyes long and dark before they returned to the rice and she responded, “Yes he’s working late again today. I still don’t understand why he chose this practice of all things. He could have run a convenience store! But no, Shiba men and their hero complex right Kisuke?”

The scientist in question muffled a snort of laughter into the sleeves of his yukata and nodded along understanding well Masaki’s complaints. The young mother smiled ruefully for a second before her gaze flickered to Ichigo who was talking to himself again.

“I bet Ichigo will be in the kitchen with you the next time I visit.”

Kisuke commented lightly watching as Masaki turned and stirred the rice in the pot. The young mother nodded a loving expression furrowing her brow as she responded, “You’re probably right, like always Kisuke. He’s a bit of a mother’s boy, but I can’t fault Ichigo. I just worry about what would happen if…” Masaki paused her eyes darting out the window to follow Ichigo as he searched the leaves before after a pregnant pause she continued, “He’s awakening. Ryūken’s felt it too.”

The words seemed to bring a sudden chill to the cosy kitchen, raising the hair on the back of Kisuke’s neck and digging icy claws into his limbs. Masaki’s lips were quirked into a frown and there was something cold and terribly afraid in her eyes.

Kisuke contemplated what those words meant. If Juha Bach were to awaken it could spell the end of Soul Society and the Mortal World in one fell swoop. Part of the scientist was thankful that he had been given an advanced warning. But another part of Kisuke wondered if it would all come to rest on Ichigo’s shoulders regardless.

Masaki’s eyes connected once with Kisuke’s before she glanced away tangling a finger through her hair and watching her son again. Kisuke sipped at the tea in his hands and let the silence linger for a moment, before he added, “He’s talking to this Lady in Red more often, isn’t he?”

The young mother stirred the pot in silence, water bubbling like a marching band as she nodded and replied, “Yes, but rarely when you aren’t around.”

The scientist processed the information and was left to wonder, it wasn’t a plus soul that much any Shinigami with reaitsu could see, nor was it a hollow. Kisuke’s deductions left few alternate solutions.

“You’re sure it isn’t an imaginary friend? You did say they were common at this age.”

Kisuke commented sipping at the tea in his hands. Masaki pursed her lips and peered through the small window in the kitchen to see the twins before she returned to facing Kisuke. With a shake of her head, the young matriarch replied, “No I don’t think so. The Red Lady tells him things he couldn’t possibly know on his own.”

“Like what?”

Kisuke questioned softly staring into the tea as his mind went to work analyzing the clues given to them. Masaki shrugged in a helpless manner and replied, “Things like how nobility would act in the Edo period, noble clans, the strict laws that often-governed Japan then.”

“It’s possible he could have read that in a book.”

The scientist suggested only for Masaki’s eyes to whip towards Kisuke and in a sudden flare of temper the mother snapped, “Dammit Kisuke, he’s five!” only to subside with a helpless sigh that belayed the worry the mother was feeling.

Kisuke watched as Ichigo crouched in the bushes, he could feel the kid’s reaitsu even from inside the house, powerful enough already to call hollows to him. Taking a slow sip of his tea as Masaki stirred the pot he added, “Your family, the last time they interacted with Shinigami was in the Edo period right,” The young matriarch glanced up warily but nodded and Kisuke continued, “It might be likely that due to Ichigo’s genetics he has the ability to see zanpaktou spirits. The Red Lady could very well be my own spirit Benihime.”

Masaki stared for a moment in shock before her gaze flickered to Ichigo who was talking to thin air. The woman’s gaze became speculative for a moment her fingers gripping the counter were a pale white as she asked, “Could you confirm it with your zanpaktou spirit?”

Kisuke nodded once and wondered how Benihime would respond. At that moment, the door to the backyard slid open with a whoosh and a hiss and Ichigo ran inside. He paused once to talk to the twins before appearing at the doorway to the kitchen. Kisuke nodded once to Masaki and followed Ichigo into the sunlight listening as the child described the cocoon the butterfly was in.

X

It was cold, so cold the kind that drilled itself through the very marrow of your bones in a way that felt like it wouldn’t ever be warm again like the sun had fled. It was cold, and the sound of rain poured down around Ichigo, soaking his clothing and hair, and driving that cold deep inside of him. The sound of the droplets was like a clock ticking out every second as his hands covered in red, such a deep watery red, pressed over his mom’s stomach.

She was bleeding from great big gashes on her stomach that reminded Ichigo of the patients that were carted into his dad’s office after the large car crash. It reminded Ichigo of the cat they found behind the school and tried to save.

Ichigo took a great shuddering heaving sob, the taste of salt heavy on his lips as he put pressure on the wound, red running over his fingers and staining the ground around them. He remembered it, the ginormous lumbering creature that had appeared where the little girl had stood, so close to the edge of the river bank, so close to falling into the rapid waters that even now roared and churned around Ichigo.

He had known it was a spirit, his mother had warned him too in that fond tone. But for one split second, Ichigo had stepped forward to warn the girl of the danger, something inside him screaming about it all the while in an incoherent babble like how the twins used to speak. The grass had been slicked with rain, and it had only taken a second before Ichigo was rolling down the hill towards the girl, and towards the river churning and hungry.

It had happened so quickly it felt like a blur, like a whirlwind and a gasp. His mom was there her hair pale and glowing in the dim light, the creature all shadow and Hunger, something bright blue that snapped like lightning and swallowed everything, a pressure searing and heavy, then his mother lying on top of him and the creature was gone.

Ichigo could feel the wounds, the ones that were beneath his hands pulsing blood, and the ones that he couldn’t see. He wanted to do something, felt it bubbling beneath the surface as if that power inside of him, the wisps he saw at the corner of his vision would help. That it would knit together the broken skin beneath his fingers. But he couldn’t reach it! It was like a dream with a road that kept winding on and on and every step closer was another step further.

A sob tore itself from Ichigo’s throat he could feel his mom slipping away, like a flame guttering in the rain that kept falling around him, pounding an endless tempo. He couldn’t do anything! He didn’t know how to fix it, he couldn’t fix it. Tears poured down Ichigo’s cheeks and mixed with the rain as he continued to apply pressure to the wound like his father told him when they talked about the cat. There were sirens in the distance and the churn of the river was attempting to drown out Ichigo’s thoughts and leave only the cold, the soul-sucking cold.

Suddenly, his mom twitched, her eyes flickered open, soft brown once the light, the warmth, like the sun of his world, fading and filled with pain. Her hand shakily rose to cup his cheek, brushing a thumb over it in a soothing gesture. There was a faint smile at the corner of her lips, one that promised a thousand things Ichigo wouldn’t understand till he was older; something like an apology and hope.

Then, her hand slumped and the beat of her heart was gone. Ichigo laid his head against her chest and listened desperately wished the rain would stop, wished he couldn’t feel that dull cold seeping deeper and deeper when he checked her pulse. Ichigo froze, and he called softly, “Mom?” and then more desperately in a breathless scream.

But there was no reply. Ichigo lifted his hands from the wound, looked at the blood on his hands and sobbed, shaking, breathless, screaming, sobs. He’d never hear his mother’s voice, feel her arms around him, watch as she moved around the kitchen with an airy grace, hear her read a story, or have her kisses goodbye.

Ichigo sobbed and felt a weight wrap around him, something harsh and white appearing in the corner of his vision for a moment, heavy and real and there. But the rain was drowning everything in dull shades of grey and Ichigo couldn’t help the tears joining the cold water dressing him head to toe as he folded over his mother, the vague impression of a hand on his head there.

The first responders arrived, the rain pouring around them, but it was too late. Ichigo was hunched over his mother as if he might protect her and sobs wracked the chilly evening air muffled by the heavy rain.

X

Ichigo stared at the swirls of wood that made up the surface of the dining table, he traced them with his eyes mindlessly, drifting in a numb state of emptiness. The child knew the world was still moving around him, that his twin sisters, his baby sisters who he was supposed to protect and care for, were curled together asleep with drying tear tracks on the couch. But Ichigo couldn’t move, it was like there were blocks of stone on his feet or like in the stories his mom had told him; it was like he had been turned to stone.

It hurt, a raw cold, stealing hurt that beat in Ichigo’s chest and stung his eyes and that made his lips quiver and his fingers clench. Because. Because she was never coming back. It was because of Ichigo, he was the one who had tripped, he was the one who wasn’t able to save her even when there was time. Ichigo stared at the swirls of wood that made up the surface of the dining table and let his existence continue to drift.

A click sounded throughout the empty Kurosaki home, loud as a gunshot and just as volatile. The sound was accompanied by two pairs of footsteps and Ichigo acknowledged the sound with a flicker of his eyes before returning his gaze to the table. His father entered first a sway to his movements, bags beneath his eyes, and shoulders dragged down by the weight of his sudden loss. Kisuke followed behind the father his hat tipped down to shade his eyes as he surveyed the home with sad eyes.

Ichigo peered from beneath his hair at his father, who leaned against the kitchen counter. The child blinked for a moment, there was Something around his father, it flickered like a flame but was weak and faint even to Ichigo’s eyes. Something inside the child, a part of him buried beneath the grief, questioned if that flicker was like The Lady in Red.

Kisuke settled at the table across from Ichigo with a screech of the chair legs that was jarring and brittle. Ichigo’s attention flickered to his uncle and then flickered to The Lady in Red. She was beautiful in the way his mother had been but sharper as if everything about her was hyper-defined. She had an ornate red-kimono, long black hair twisted into an elegant hairstyle, and eyes that were frighteningly intelligent and hungry. When he had first met her, she had been aloof and barely spoke to him. But that had changed over time and with Ichigo’s determined persistence.

The Lady in Red was smiling at him now, it wasn’t the toothy smile that highlighted the curve of her lips, it was something that pulled at the corner of her eyes and was fragile like porcelain. Ichigo’s eyes flickered to Kisuke, the man’s eyes were watery, his hair was a mess, and his permanent five-o-clock shadow was also a mess, and back to The Lady in Red. Usually. His uncle was a very crafty man who was very good at playing hide and seek with his emotions, but when Ichigo looked to The Lady in Red it wasn’t hard to tell what the man was actually feeling; Ichigo didn’t need that today.

Ichigo stared at the swirls of wood that made up the surface of the dining table, it was becoming dark out. Ichigo would have sat on the river bank until the moon was in the sky, watching the water flow onto itself in the same manner as his thoughts. But his father had found him, and tonight was the night of the funeral. Ichigo didn’t have the energy to throw a tantrum, he couldn’t, not when the twins were looking to him; so, he stared at the table.

Kisuke coughed once, the sound overbearing and harsh like the rasp of too weak lungs trying to take in air and Ichigo glanced first to The Lady in Red then to Kisuke. The man tipped his hat to shade his eyes and stated in a voice rough with emotion, “We’ll be leaving soon Ichigo.”

The words felt stilted as if each syllable had been dragged through molasses. Ichigo only nodded and returned his attention to the wood in front of him. He heard his uncle sigh and the too loud screech of the chair sliding back. They spoke in hushed whispers, Kisuke and his father, as Ichigo stared at the swirls of wood. They spoke about the truth and Isshin thanked the scientist for being there for his family and ignored the guilt in his friend’s eyes.

The funeral was black, like the skies outside, overcast and heavy with the rain that had begun to pour as soon as they exited the house. Ichigo hated the rain. Everyone was dressed in black and words of consolation drifted through the air like an out of tune lullaby. It all felt like a blur, like when the rain got on a drawing with markers and everything just blurred together.

Ichigo remembered another boy, one with black hair, and glasses. Ichigo remembered the way the twins clung to him, their tiny hands wrapped in his own, the way they sniffled and the sight of it all seemed to drive home the fact for the first time that their mom was never coming home again. Because of Ichigo. He remembered standing in the rain, feeling the cold seep into his clothing, seep beneath his skin and into his bones as if it wouldn’t ever go away. He remembered the car ride home and the stilted silence that wouldn’t go away and the darkness of the world around the car.

Ichigo returned to sitting at the dining room table in the harsh fluorescence of the overhanging light as his father tucked the twins into bed. Kisuke entered the dining room from the kitchen with two mugs in his hands and wisps of pale steam that felt invisible in the harsh light. The mugs were set on the table with a dull clink, one in front of Ichigo and one in front of Kisuke. It smelt like chamomile and mom.

There was something stuck in Ichigo’s throat and burning behind his eyes and it felt like it wanted to escape. Then suddenly, there were arms wrapping around Ichigo and he glanced into the gold on black eyes of the spirit who appeared that night. He was all white and he looked like Ichigo, but he was not Ichigo, but he was Ichigo’s. The spirit’s eyes were warm, and his body was warm at that moment and Ichigo felt like he was wearing a blanket.

Ichigo glanced up when he heard the clink of the mug settling on the table, glanced into his uncle’s eyes and took a sip of his own tea. It was hot, almost unbearably so, and chased the chill from his veins. Kisuke sighed dragging a hand over his features and messing his hair up so it looked like a bird’s nest. The Lady in Red was giggling and Ichigo wondered what aunt Yoruichi would say if she saw him.

“Ichigo do you know what… what k-happened that night?”

Kisuke asked tentatively and quietly as if he might fell a tree with the words alone. The air was suddenly cold again and Ichigo felt as if he was in one of those cop shows and he was in the interrogation room. The child glanced at his hands and nodded his brow creased and the lump in his throat returned with vengeance. His spirit leaned heavily on Ichigo’s shoulders and he glanced up once and saw unending support in those mismatched eyes.

“One of the bad spirits attacked and hurt Kaa-san and... and I couldn’t save her.”

Ichigo responded and hated the way his voice sounded in the silence of the kitchen. Kisuke flinched as if he had been physically hurt by Ichigo’s words and the thought struck at Ichigo like a stray bullet. He took a sip of the too hot tea and studied the swirls of wood in the table.

“It wasn’t your fault Ichigo. Masaki, your mother died to save you, she would never allow your life over hers… it wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t heal her or treat her wounds.”

Kisuke said and Ichigo dropped the mug in his hands. It dropped onto the table with a clatter and wobbled spilling hot tea onto Ichigo’s hands before righting itself. The child hissed at the light burn and in an instant, Kisuke was beside Ichigo holding his hands. The spirit who was not Ichigo but looked like him hissed in the same manner and wrapped his arms more tightly around Ichigo his warmth seeping into the smaller body.

Ignoring the pain, Ichigo stared into Kisuke’s eyes and asked, “Was there a way I could have healed her?”

Kisuke made a soft sound as he cradled Ichigo’s hands, his grey eyes flickered up once to meet Ichigo’s as The Lady in Red hovered beside his uncle. A soft green glow surrounded his uncle’s hands and suddenly Ichigo felt a warmth spread through his hands where Kisuke’s hovered above them. The warmth seemed to travel through his veins like drinking a mug of hot chocolate on a winter’s day. For the first time in a week, Ichigo felt real and truly warm again.

There were tears dripping down Ichigo’s cheeks, and he wondered when he had started to cry. Wide eyes stared into Kisuke’s own and his uncle bowed his head for a moment at the emotion there before he surged forth and hugged Ichigo. The child in question stared in wonder at the green glow surrounding his hands, the way it rippled like a stone thrown into a pond.

“Could you teach me this? Teach me how to be strong enough to protect my family so… so, it never happens again.”

Ichigo asked brown eyes, the same that had glanced into Kisuke’s soul, glanced into Kisuke’s grey eyes aged and wise. The former Captain of the Twelfth division studied the determination of the child in front of him, the tears streaming down Ichigo’s cheeks, thought of the desolation he had seen because he had been too late, and nodded.

A small body buried into Kisuke’s own and began to sob. Kisuke closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Ichigo, for a second he thought he could feel the warmth of something else.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading I hope you enjoyed the second chapter! This chapter confirms that Ichigo can see zanpaktou spirits and also sets up a lot of the future story. Reviews/comments are always appreciated, Till next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, here is the new chapter, it’s a bit more positive than the last chapter. For those who were asking, this story will mainly be centered on Ichigo learning to be a healer, and while he may develop the powers his heritage grants him, the point of this story is not a Bamf Ichigo. Thank you all for the positive reviews the last chapter, I hope you enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo

X

Ichigo gasped for breath as he rolled over the rough terrain, trying to minimize the damage by tucking his arms into his chest as he clung tightly to the shinai in his hands. Rolling to a stop, Ichigo coughed the taste of dust out of his mouth and let his eyes flicker open to warily survey his surroundings. Rising to his feet, Ichigo tried to search the terrain with his reaitsu but it was useless. There was so much of it that it was sort of like trying to direct an ocean through a funnel. 

Instead, Ichigo used his eyes surveying the rocky towers that made up the underground training area, the fake sky overhead was a clear blue with fluffy clouds floating around; it almost instilled a false sense of peace. Ichigo whirled around as his instincts buzzed in awareness, his shinai raised to block as his uncle appeared in a blur of the Shinigami art; shunpo. 

As Ichigo caught Kisuke’s shinai on his own, struggling against the greater weight before shifting his stance, Ichigo recalled the first time he had seen the training area under the Shōten. It had been awe-inspiring, as if he had travelled to another world, or like his uncle had a pocket dimension! Kisuke had chuckled and ruffled Ichigo’s hair, understanding in his eye. That had been followed by a practically evil grin as he tossed him a shinai, Ichigo had fumbled and caught the weighted wooden stick with a confused look until his uncle explained that protecting his family wasn’t just about healing. 

Darting back a few steps in the rough shunpo Yoruichi had taught him when they played tag, Ichigo adjusted his grip on the shinai and flew forward. Kisuke’s grey eyes seemed to glow from beneath his striped-bucket hat as Ichigo appeared in front of his uncle. Their wooden weapons clanged together with a loud clatter as Ichigo used his overhead strike and the force of gravity to push against his uncle; who was unfairly strong compared to Ichigo’s eight-year-old body.

A strong kick landed in Ichigo’s solar plexus sending the child flying backwards only to land in a roll and spring to his feet shinai at the ready. Kisuke nodded his lips curved very faintly into a smile that was hardly noticeable if one didn’t know the man’s tells. With a nod, Kisuke commented, “That was a good roll Ichigo, you transformed the kinetic energy well. Remember to keep your guard up at all times, alright?”

Ichigo nodded and watched as Kisuke demonstrated how Ichigo could use the hilt of his shinai as part of his guard but also his elbows. When the former-Shinigami knew that Ichigo understood he tipped his head once and then flew forward. With a whirl of air, Ichigo dodged to the side and attempted to hit the striped hat off of Kisuke’s head; so far, he had been unsuccessful, but he wouldn’t give up. 

Ducking under the overhead-swing Kisuke retaliated, Ichigo listened to the whisper of his spirit’s voice and used rough flash-step to appear behind Kisuke. His uncle knew Ichigo was there, so Ichigo feinted to the side and used shunpo again to appear in Kisuke’s personal space. There was a terrifying grin on his uncle’s features, one that was almost scarily reminiscent of Benihime. 

Ichigo looked down and had a split second to bring his shinai to his chest before a kido exploded in front of him. It was bright crimson red and Ichigo was pretty sure it was Shakkahō as he flew back rolling into a ball and colliding with a stone pillar in a cloud of dust; Ichigo was well familiar with the feeling of Shakkahō. So far, Ichigo had only learned a few kido from Tessai because his reaitsu made it difficult to not overpower the spell. But Kisuke was adamant that they were still used during training. 

For a moment, as Ichigo coughed out the dust filling the air (he would have to stop that, Kisuke said it gave away his position) he contemplated surrendering and ending the spar. But Ichigo couldn’t afford to give up, he had to keep going, had to keep fighting, had to get stronger, so he could protect his sisters. 

A shinai cut through the cloud of dust and Ichigo darted into shunpo from a low crouch appearing behind his uncle with his shinai raised. Kisuke turned lightning fast and he directed the pommel of his shinai towards Ichigo’s gut. Turning in mid-air Ichigo landed in a crouch and shot forward, colliding with Kisuke’s shinai in a flurry of motion. The two exchanged blows moving back and forth across the training area for a moment as Ichigo worked on his extended reach and tried to keep up with his uncle’s viper-like movements. 

In a quick flick of motion that was hard for Ichigo to follow, Kisuke twisted his shinai and suddenly the training sword in Ichigo’s hand went flying. Panting Ichigo registered the wooden blade resting at his neck, the sweat like a cold sheet on his back, and the flicker of pride he could detect in his uncle’s eyes. 

“You have to teach me that move it was awesome! Please, uncle Kisuke?”

Ichigo asked with wide eyes and a blinding grin. Kisuke scoffed and dropped the shinai resting against Ichigo’s neck, with a shake of his head the man stroked the stubble on his chin for a moment. Ichigo frowned impatiently at his uncle’s actions and focused the full force of his puppy eyes on the man. Kisuke studied Ichigo imperiously for a moment, eyes narrowed in challenge. Finally, with a laugh, he ruffled Ichigo’s hair and replied, “Next spar okay Ichigo? For now, let’s review as we cool down okay?”

The orange-haired child, the colour similar to his mother’s in the pale afternoon light, nodded with a blinding smile that made something inside Kisuke’s chest ache. Ichigo was adapting well, he was in many ways a prodigy. It left Kisuke wondering if he still wasn’t following through on his old plan regardless of intention. 

With a nod from his uncle in the direction of the lost shinai, Ichigo raced over and picked up the heavy training implement before joining Kisuke as he moved to another section of the training area. Ichigo hummed happily under his breath as the two settled on the ground and began to stretch, reaching out to touch their toes or twisting behind them. Ichigo liked stretching after a spar and sometimes Kisuke would explain what muscle they were stretching and how it was connected to the body.

“You did well today with your technique Ichigo,” Kisuke began catching Ichigo’s attention and continuing once he had it, “I saw that you adjusted your stance a few times, never be afraid to do that in the middle of battle. It’s important when you’re facing different opponents to consider their strength and size. For example, if you were to fight someone your own size you would need to adjust your reach and wouldn’t need to deepen your stance as much because your opponent wouldn’t have the height advantage.”

Ichigo nodded as they moved to another stretch processing the information and the words with a careful nod. When Ichigo blinked he could see Benihime and his spirit talking to each other in the shade of the pillar. 

“Remember to protect your core when we’re fighting, you have the habit of leaving yourself open. Also, I noticed you were attempting to strategize today. Keep doing that Ichigo, always try to stay three steps ahead of your opponent. If you can predict what they’re going to do it makes it easier to respond in the best manner possible.”

Kisuke finished as he settled in a seiza position, Ichigo mirrored the action and acknowledged his uncle’s words with a nod, eyes determined where they stared at his mentor. Kisuke smiled softly for a moment as he surveyed Ichigo before with a cough the man stated, “Well let’s move onto healing our bruises eh?”

Ichigo nodded energetically and scooted closer to Kisuke extending his arms so his mentor could survey the damage. With a furrow to his brow, Kisuke asked, “Have you talked to your dad about learning first aid yet?”

Shifting awkwardly for a moment Ichigo studied his arms and bit his lip. After a second, where his spirit nudged him to answer, Ichigo replied, “I’ve tried talking to him. But it feels like we’re having two different conversations. I feel as if we’re yelling at each other over a huge cliff.”

Kisuke shook his head for a moment, his eyes shaded beneath the brim of the hat one of his hands clenching at his side even as the other stroked the stubble on his chin. Benihime, where she was talking to Ichigo’s spirit, stiffened her spine straight as iron for a moment, even from a distance Ichigo could feel her bloodlust. After a minute, Ichigo’s uncle glanced up and must have noticed the guilt on Ichigo’s features because he quickly assured, “It’s not your fault Ichigo. Try again a few times and if he still isn’t communicating very well you can always grab some of the textbooks in his office and we can go over them together okay?”

Ichigo nodded a small smile on his lips and something mischievous in his eyes at the thought of sneaking into his dad’s office; Ichigo had learned that look from Kisuke. The man in question hummed to himself for a moment before he asked, “Are you ready to try and heal the bruises and the cut on your arm? Do you remember how healing kido works Ichigo?”

Shifting one hand over his arm, Ichigo focused on the endless reaitsu inside of him, he thought of how he wanted to ‘accelerate the reproduction of the cells’ as Kisuke had stated. Ichigo thought of that night in the rain, that feeling that had been seared just beneath his fingertips and with a soft exhale Ichigo let the reaitsu flow around his fingers. When he opened his eyes, the soft green glow was there, shimmery like water Ichigo guided it over the cut on his arm and focused on how he wanted the cells in his body to react.

“Pretty soon, Tessai will have to take over your training Ichigo. I’m only good for minor injuries at best I’m afraid.”

Kisuke stated, and Ichigo shifted his eyes up continuing the healing as he responded, “Really? Like how you insisted Yoruichi teach me shunpo?”

Ichigo’s uncle nodded with a huff of laughter and a shake of his head something amused and resigned in the gesture. A peaceful silence fell between the two for a moment, Kisuke watched Ichigo with sharp eyes and asked, “Have you had any luck in entering your inner world during meditation?”

“No.”

Ichigo responded with a dejected shrug as he switched the kido to his other hand and started healing the bruises on his other arm. Kisuke smiled encouragingly and responded, “Don’t worry Ichigo. Some Shinigami take their whole life to do so. And besides, I think you have a bit of an advantage. So, you’ll be there in no time.”

With a glance upwards, Ichigo caught the waggle of his uncle’s eyebrows and giggles tumbled helplessly from his lips as he turned his attention to his spirit who was grinning; the grin looked bloodthirsty but Ichigo knew it was meant to be supportive. 

“Oh, that reminds me Kisuke. Guess what happened this week?

Ichigo asked with bright eyes, the pale green of the kido reflecting like waves on his features. Kisuke quirked a brow and leaned forward to daringly question, “What?”

“Yuzu helped me in the kitchen! It wasn’t much because she is not touching the knives for a while. But she helped me wash the vegetables and stir the pot.”

The youth replied with a bright grin, something of his mother in his features. Kisuke grinned, his expression fractured with something bitter for a moment before it was gone. Studying his student’s arms Kisuke replied, “You should ask Tessai for some of his recipes. Ah, I think you’re done healing Ichigo, good job!”

Ichigo beamed at the praise and rose to his feet alongside Kisuke, joining his uncle as they made their way to the ladder in a peaceful silence. After a minute, Ichigo shifted nervously and in a quiet voice asked, “Kisuke do you think there’s anything we can do about my reaitsu. I don’t want to attract any of the bad spirits, I mean Hollows, I don’t want them to hurt Yuzu and Karin, or anyone else I care about.”

Kisuke slowed in his pace at Ichigo’s words turning a considering eye on the child at his side. Settling a hand on Ichigo’s shoulder the former Captain of the Twelfth division responded, “We’ll figure something out Ichigo. Maybe we’ll spread your reaitsu out like a very thin blanket so it’s everywhere. Maybe we’ll funnel it into a pocket dimension. In the meantime, Ichigo, don’t worry you have your spirit with you and I’ll always be watching out for you. The same with Yoruichi and Tessai.”

Ichigo glanced up something pensive in his gaze for a moment before he nodded with a small smile. Kisuke grinned as they arrived at the ladder and with a cheery tone said, “Come on, we can probably have a cup of tea before we must return you home.”

X

It was raining, a thick misty rain the shrouded everything in a haze leaving only indistinct shapes. Ichigo wondered why it had to rain on the anniversary of that date. He felt as if the mist outside was inside of him, tangling with his emotions and leaving only the mist. It was a blur as he packed a small picnic basket, as he packed umbrellas and the like. The house felt cold, empty.

For the first few months afterwards, it had been like that, as if no one lived there just ghosts. But eventually, Yuzu had started smiling again, Karin had returned with a vicious temper, and Isshin had descended into goofy antics as if it might lighten the mood; it helped somewhat. It was their father who had suggested visiting her grave, something tired and heavy in the man’s eyes at the dinner table the night before. 

Part of Ichigo hadn’t wanted to go, didn’t want to face the reality. But he needed to pay his respect to his mother, needed to tell of how much he had improved, how he was protecting his sisters and how much they were growing up. Yuzu, a burgeoning housekeeper already (and she reminded him wretchedly and fondly of his mother) had created a list of food to make and left the complicated work to her older brother. 

Ichigo was quite certain Yuzu was digging around in the attic with Karin if the occasional thump and bump was any indication. He wondered what they would find up there, Ichigo had only been up there once and it had been filled with old artifacts and furniture. He glanced at the clock on the wall and wondered when Isshin would come in from his shift in the clinic, then they could leave.

It was an hour later that Ichigo climbed the stairs to the attic, he found Yuzu and Karin hunched over something and dressed in old clothing. The older brother grinned at the innocent glances they flashed his way and told them to come downstairs before leaving them to their mystery. It made him happy to see them actually happy again. 

The grass was slippery and sloshed underneath Ichigo’s shoes as they climbed up the hill, a parade of umbrellas, all in bright and fun colours, over their heads. Yuzu was holding onto Ichigo’s hand as they climbed each step with a jump and a hop. Karin was in front of them trudging along with arms crossed, she would glance back every few minutes with an expectant look but also to make sure they were still there. Isshin was the caboose following his children with slow measured movements, a cigarette between his teeth and smoke in the air.

The graveyard was empty, Ichigo thought he could see a lone umbrella far in the back but that was it. Up high the air was colder, and the rain felt less like a hailstorm, perhaps it had slowed a bit. It took the Kurosaki family a few minutes to find the grave, whether that was due to memory or the mists Ichigo didn’t want to decide.

Crouching down with Yuzu beside him, Ichigo carefully showed his sister how to pull the weeds gently from the earth around the grave, how to brush away the dirt stuck between the crevices of her name, and finally how to place the flowers. It was methodical and cathartic in a sense. Karin watched with their father her arms crossed over her chest and something lost in her eyes. 

Ichigo rested his hand against the engraved letters as Yuzu moved back to crock her arm with Karin’s. He traced the letters with his eyes and for a moment just breathed and thought of his mom, her smile, her laugh, the colour of her hair, her eyes, all of it. After a minute, Ichigo stepped back, the knees of his pants were soaked, and he could almost feel a familiar chill settling there and drifting everywhere else. 

Ichigo settled underneath a tree a short distance away and let Karin and Yuzu talk to mom. Isshin stood behind the girls a silent guardian and in the mists, Ichigo could see the faint flickers of something around the man. With a rush of warm air, Ichigo’s spirit appeared beside him, those golden eyes surveying the area carefully even as one hand ruffled Ichigo’s hair. 

They both felt it, a chill on the back of Ichigo’s neck, the way his hair bristled, he didn’t have to wonder what it was. Ichigo attempted to use his reaitsu to track the Hollow, to find if it was near his family. But it was useless, his own reaitsu was as concealing as the mist around him. His spirit, as if noticing his frustration gently grasped Ichigo’s hand and tugged him forward.

They moved together in a rough shunpo as Ichigo’s hand fumbled for the small phone Kisuke had given him for emergencies as the rain pounded around them. He dialled the number hearing it ring underneath the sound of the rain as they entered a clearing. 

There was a lady on the ground, an umbrella lying a few feet away as she cowered in terror. There was a Hollow in the clearing, the same harsh white as his spirit but less human like someone had attempted to create an animal without a reference picture and had only managed to capture the raw hunger. For a split second, Ichigo knew he could leave, could pretend nothing had ever happened. His family would be safe and Kisuke would arrive eventually. 

Ichigo couldn’t do that. He couldn’t back away and let an innocent woman lose her life, not when he had the power to protect people. His spirit hummed reaitsu thrumming in the air as pale bone-white hands clasped over Ichigo’s own. The sword that materialized was almost translucent, a katana that reflected Ichigo’s appearance in the mist. For a moment, Ichigo felt the power in front of him and studied the Hollow; it was large with a bulky body, which meant it would rely on strength and would be slower than Ichigo.

“Are you ready Ichigo.”

His spirit asked and Ichigo muffled his surprise at hearing the raspy dual tone voice for the first time. Ichigo had known he would hear it eventually. Instead, Ichigo nodded and as one being they cut through the air and rain, appearing in front of the Hollow. Ichigo knew the mask was the weak-spot on a Hollow, so he used his height to attempt to bisect the creature. The Hollow turned at the last moment, cold beastly eyes centring on Ichigo as a large fist swung outwards batting him into a tree. 

Ichigo coughed and rose to his feet, adjusting his grip on the katana in his hands, he inhaled. Inside, Ichigo was shaking, he was terrified, but he couldn’t turn back, he had to keep moving forward. If he did that he didn’t deserve to be called it Ichigo.

“You can do this Ichigo, call my name, move forward.”

His spirit assured that warbly voice clear with conviction as gold eyes connected with his own. Ichigo had felt his spirit’s name in his soul when he had tried to reach his inner world, on that night in the rain. But it had always lingered on the tip of his tongue just out of reach. Ichigo needed that power now needed to be able to protect his family and move forward.

As the Hollow began to lumber forward Ichigo channelled his reaitsu and whispered, “Zangetsu.”

The blade in his hand didn’t change, Ichigo knew this wasn’t his full Shikai, not yet his body wasn’t ready. But Ichigo felt Zangetsu’s hands wrap around his own, felt the way his reiatsu was suddenly funnelled into the blade into his hands, a measure of control slicing itself through the air in a sharp chill. As one being they moved into the air and with a downward strike and arc of reaitsu cut the Hollow in half. 

Ichigo landed panting and gasping at his breath as his body protested. The sword in Ichigo’s hands faded to translucence at the same moment as the Hollow disappeared and Ichigo felt Zangetsu’s pride before the spirit faded into Ichigo’s inner world. A ruffle from the bushes snatched Ichigo’s attention with wide eyes and a rapid heartbeat even as he stumbled once more.

Kisuke stepped out from the bushes an umbrella over his head and something warm in his eyes as he walked over to Ichigo, who only then realized how utterly soaked he was. Ichigo stiffened for a moment at the arms that wrapped around him before he leaned his head against his uncle’s chest and began to cry; he wasn’t sure quite why.

After a moment, Kisuke pulled back a faint smile on his lips. Benihime stood protectively behind her wielder, and said, “Sorry I’m late Ichigo, an old friend was being stubborn. Come we best return before Yuzu gets worried, she is just like your mom in that aspect,” He paused for a moment studying Ichigo then continued, “You did well today.”

Ichigo nodded with a half-smile exhaustion tugging at his body as he tucked himself into Kisuke and allowed his uncle to carry him like he hadn’t since those first few training sessions. Kisuke stared at Ichigo in his arms for a quiet moment and wondered if fate was real.

X

Shinji studied Kisuke, really looked at the man who had saved their asses from Soul Society’s definition of mercy. The scientist had been different in recent years, in an almost intangible way. It was hardly noticeable if you didn’t know Kisuke. But Shinji knew Kisuke, had shared drinks with him when they had both been captains when everything had been simpler.

The Vizard supposed it all started with Isshin Shiba and Masaki Kurosaki. Shinji had known about Isshin, they had almost been captains at the same time, he knew the man was every bit the Shiba he had been raised. Goofy to a fault, overbearing, and with a sense of justice three canyons wide. What Shinji didn’t know about was Masaki Kurosaki. Oh, he knew she was a Quincy, that much Kisuke had let slip more than a few times. But that was it.

Shinji, for all of his lost pride, wasn’t an idiot though. He had left the small family alone, even when he heard about the birth of Ichigo in reverent detail from both Yoruichi (and when did she gush) and Kisuke. Their coup de grab, their mythical saviour forged of multiple powerful bloodlines; a two-month-old baby. 

Kisuke had confessed later, after insisting Shinji come and meet the kid (and no he wasn’t meeting the kid they were setting up for slaughter) when he been deep in his cup. The mastermind behind the whole plot didn’t want it anymore. It was laughable if they both didn’t know they needed the kid’s power to defeat Aizen. 

So, Shinji and the Vizard had turned their attention away from Ichigo, they would wait till the kid became one of them; if he did. Instead, they had focused on trying to tame their Hollows, on trying to keep the monster chained instead. Focused their vengeance, their thoughts on Aizen and not the pain in their soul. 

Kisuke had come in one night, or sometime early in the morning. His friend, normally composed, even if it was a shabby sort of composed, had appeared with red eyes and shaking hands. There had been guilt in his voice when he explained what had happened to Masaki Kurosaki, how Kisuke hadn’t even tried to save her, not really. Something in Shinji had been sad, but it had been distant in the way that it was sad when Rungokai kids lost their families to the Hollow you were hunting. 

But then Kisuke had slipped a bit, gone off on a tangent and mentioned how Ichigo, Masaki’s child had the ability to see spirits. The frightening and wondrous all at once, Shinji wasn’t sure if he wanted the kid to see his spirit for what it was; for what they had been turned into. 

They had been sharing sake, Kisuke ruminating with pride over Ichigo’s progress, the way the kid was almost a prodigy. The scientist had begun to describe the spirit Ichigo claimed as his when something, some alarm or another had gone off. Shinji had been left with questions about golden eyes and Ichigo Kurosaki. 

Shinji was cunning, he didn’t show it often. It was better to play the rabbit and wait for the wolf to reveal itself. But Shinji wanted to meet the kid he had heard so much about, and if that meant being cunning because Kisuke wanted to wait on a meeting till the kid was ready, well who was Shinji to disappoint.

Leaning against the counter, Shinji absorbed the peculiar atmosphere the Shōten always had. Love had likened it to ‘something funky’ and Lisa always regarded the building with curled lips, but Mashiro seemed to love it; he supposed that was because of the candy.

A bell rung above the doorway, the sound merry and tinkling. It was new, of that Shinji was certain, but when it had been added he could hardly tell, Shinji always snuck in through the back. The reaitsu hit him first, wild, untamed, and above all absolutely massive like the black holes Kisuke talked about when he was tipsy enough; sucking in everything around it. 

Then Shinji saw who was emitting such power and the irony wasn’t lost that it was an eight-year-old kid with bright orange hair and the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen. Shinji had an inkling as to why Kisuke had a problem with his master plan. Ichigo entered first walking and talking with a happy air and Kisuke followed behind the kid a weary look tugging at his features that reminded Shinji of his third-seat. 

Kisuke noticed him first, his spine straightening and those Athena-grey eyes flashing underneath the brim of his hat. Shinji grinned and that was when Ichigo clued into the atmosphere of the room. Those big brown eyes landed on Shinji, observing everything about him before flickering to the side. The child squinted as if straining to see something that wasn’t there before slumping in defeat and returning his attention to Shinji. 

With a sigh, Kisuke stepped into the middle of the space and began the introductions, “Ichigo, this is Shinji Hirako, a former Captain of the Gotei 13. Shinji this Ichigo Kurosaki, my student.”

Ichigo tipped his head down bashfully at Kisuke’s words but grinned at Shinji nonetheless bouncing forward to look up at him and with all the bluntness any child possessed stated, “There’s something about you that’s different, your spirit is hiding but I caught a glimpse of her. She’s kind of like my spirit.”

Shinji looked to Kisuke for help in deciphering the words even as something in him shifted uneasily at the kid’s perceptiveness and his description of Sakande. Kisuke grinned unrepentantly and for a split second the Vizard wondered if it had been Shinji Kisuke had been protecting in trying to prevent the meeting. 

“That’s interesting, what’s your spirit like?”

Shinji replied, deciding it was better to indulge Ichigo. The kid in front of him blinked for a moment, his eyes flicking behind him to seek out a spirit before returning to Shinji. With a small smile, Ichigo stated, “He had golden eyes, and he says he’s like your spirit. He also said some not nice things that I’m not going to repeat.”

A wide grin settled on Shinji’s lips at the answer, Kisuke sighed and scrubbed a hand over his features in resignation. Ichigo turned to Kisuke with a curious tilt of his head and asked, “Shiro said that there are more people like Shinji-san?”

Shinji snorted and decided he liked the kid as Kisuke only groaned and levelled Shinji with a vitriolic glare; the scientist was likely planning his newest experiment. Instead, the scientist nodded and tipped his head towards the sky when Ichigo responded, “Can I meet them?”

Kisuke looked like he was about to say no, a not wholly unreasonable plan. Shinji was also minorly in agreement if only because he didn’t want to expose the kid to their inner demons. It was fine and dandy if Ichigo’s spirit was nice and tame, but their spirits weren’t. At the continuing silence and lack of answer, Ichigo pouted his hands resting on his hips the kid declared, “I should be allowed to meet them. Even if their spirits are meanies they can’t hurt me. Besides, it’s important to learn from multiple sources you said that yourself.”

The scientist’s shoulders slumped in defeat and Shinji tucked away a grin at the expression and instead caught Ichigo’s attention and replied. “Ya can meet everyone later. For now, ya have training to do. And besides, I think I need to warn them if they’re gonna meet ya Ichi.”

The orange-haired kid frowned for a moment at the offer before he flashed Shinji a bright grin and nodded. Kami if the kid had those kinds of smiles, Shinji understood why Kisuke’s master plans had fallen through. 

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, it dealt with the events after Masaki’s death and the progress of Ichigo’s character which was fun to write. A bit of an explanation for the second scene (the one with the Hollow fight). Ichigo knows Zangetsu’s name but he hasn’t unlocked his Shikai because his body isn’t physically strong enough, nor is his mind ready for that. Instead, it’s more like because he knows Zangetsu’s name he has the ability to direct/control his reaitsu more. In the future, he will unlock Shikai, but that won’t happen till his spirit(s) say he’s ready. Thank you all for reading, reviews/comments are always appreciated, till next time!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, here we are with another chapter. Thanks to everyone who commented/reviewed the last chapter, I love hearing your input and thoughts. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo

X

At first glance, the warehouse blended with all the other warehouses in the district. It had the same despondent aura, the same dingy grey panelling, and the same shady alleyways that promised danger. But beneath that, Ichigo could sense more, something humming and living that reminded him of the Urahara Shōten, or even his own home sometimes. It was something Ichigo was beginning to associate with reaitsu.

Shinji grinned, where he was standing beside Ichigo in the early afternoon light his blond air rippled like gold. Kisuke had wanted to come, Ichigo had seen the staring match between the two Shinigami but Kisuke had been forced to cede the honour to Shinji when one of his inventions had threatened to explode, again. Ichigo was just happy that he would be able to meet the rest of the Vizard, and if he was lucky their spirits.

In his life, he had only met Zangetsu and Benihime. Both had complex personalities, appearances, and motives that while connected to their wielder were also independent. Ichigo believed that each zanpaktou spirit was worthy of being recognized, and therefore, he wanted to meet the other spirits. Shinji had frowned when they discussed a visit, something bitter curling the edges of his lips and furrowing his brow, settling heavy on his shoulders. At that moment, Ichigo had caught the briefest glimpse of the man’s spirit, she was something ancient and feline, and below it all a seething mess of emotions.

There had been silence for a few moments before Shinji had licked his lips and replied, “Ichigo, our spirits they’re… not like yours. They’re wild and dangerous, they could hurt ya. Maybe not physically but once they meet ya they could haunt you. Ya shouldn’t have to see the darkest parts of our soul.”

Ichigo hadn’t understood because in the end, your soul was a reflection of you; even the parts you didn’t want people to see. Personally, Ichigo was adamant that they were approaching everything the wrong way. After all, why would you lock up half of your soul? Ichigo could never imagine doing the same to Zangetsu, even if the spirit had a mouth foul enough to make Kisuke blush.

But he hadn’t said that because then he definitely wouldn’t have been allowed to meet the Vizard until he was older. Instead, Ichigo had put all of Benihime’s lessons on being sly to weasel his way in. Shiro had cackled like an evil villain in the background when Ichigo had finally weathered the two adults down with a mixture of puppy eyes and logical arguments.

So, he was here in front of the warehouse which wasn’t all that it appeared to be. Shinji glanced down once at Ichigo, his spirit flickering briefly into existence before disappearing once more, his eyes intense and piercing but in a way, you couldn’t quite grasp as he asked, “Are ya sure Ichigo? Ya don’t have ta meet everyone now they won’t mind; well everyone but Hiyori.”

Shiro leaned his arms on Ichigo’s head and he could feel the spirit’s support, it was true that Ichigo didn’t have to meet the Vizard now. But patience wasn’t built in a day, and Ichigo knew he needed to meet them. The youth nodded once determination blazing in his eyes that was eerily reminiscent to the former Captain of the Tenth. Shinji sighed but nodded and stepped forward to press a hand to the air in front of him.

With a pulse of reaitsu, the air in front of them shimmered and a translucent barrier fizzing pale gold in the sunlight flickered into existence. Ichigo stared transfixed at the energy before him as it shifted and lapped over one another, complex layers of kido Ichigo had only seen Tessai cast. Shinji laughed, the sound low and rumbling deep in his chest as the man commented in a wry tone, “It’s impressive isn’t it. Tessai taught Hachi when they were in the kido corps, but they’ve both differentiated into their own fields.”

Ichigo nodded acknowledging the words even as he knew at the same time that the types of kido that required high levels of finesse and control, basically all kido, would never be his forte. Ichigo could handle healing kido, that was different, something he could visualize and materialize because it was right in front of him. But building a solid structure in your mind and crafting it into existence just didn’t compute.

Shiro’s raspy laughter echoed and bounced around Ichigo’s skull but the spirit said nothing and Ichigo only saw the flash of his too wide grin. Shinji clapped his hands together and with irony lacing his voice stated, “Well, that’s enough procrastinating. Let’s go inside,” It was accompanied by a Cheshire grin as the Shinigami gently grasped Ichigo’s hand and tugged the both of them inside the barrier.

The image of the warehouse didn’t waver and disappear when they passed through the barrier, but suddenly, amidst the pool of his own reaitsu, he could feel the presences of the Vizard within the warehouse. Shinji strode confidently forward and Ichigo followed watching as the man opened the large door with ease and a rough grind of sound that shrieked and spit.

The inside of the warehouse had been converted to something like a living space, except for the fact that they took the industrial style a touch too literally; he could feel Zangetsu’s amusement at that thought and knew both Zangetsu and Benihime were rubbing off on him. The inside was large, with a few hastily thrown up walls separating a kitchen from a living room, and what Ichigo presumed were bedrooms.

Most of the Vizard were seated on the couches, sprawled in various positions as a speaker set off in one corner blasted music that felt like a mix between jazz and something techno; Ichigo decided he sort of liked it. A few of them glanced up at the doors opening but when they saw Shinji (and presumably only Shinji) they returned to their previous actions. Shinji grinned something mischievous and fierce as he guided Ichigo forward and placed him in the centre of the group’s midst.

The carpet beneath his feet was blue and had curls of yarn, Ichigo decided to focus on that for a few moments as the silence, interrupted only by the music continued. After a minute, where Shinji was becoming visibly impatient, one of the Vizard glanced up. It was a woman, with narrow glasses, a long braid of dark hair, and a sailor uniform. Her spirit hovered behind her, it had wings that were translucent and glimmered like dew in the warehouse lighting, they wrapped around its body like a kimono, one wrapped over its mouth, it had a tangled mess of silver hair that spilt down its back, and gold eyes.

“Lisa meet Ichigo Kurosaki, Ichigo meet Lisa Yadōmaru.”

The woman stiffened and Ichigo felt the full force of her gaze, and that of the others, as she stared at him critical and assessing all at once. Ichigo stared back, Shiro like a wall of iron behind him even as her spirit shifted agitatedly reaitsu drifting listlessly. Lisa-san nodded once something coiled in her eyes before she returned her attention to the manga in her hands and her spirit flickered away.

Shinji huffed in amusement under his breath before he turned to the next Vizard. It was a man with thick hair shaped sort of like a Christmas tree or a porcupine, dark skin, and a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose, which were tipped up, so he could glimpse Ichigo. The man’s spirit hovered behind him, it had a long mask like the Oni Ichigo had seen in museums, armour like that of a samurai in black adorned with spikes, and trailing sleeves that wisped at the air bound across its chest.

“Ichigo this is Love Aikawa, Love this is Ichigo Kurosaki.”

Shinji introduced the two with a grin, the Vizard glanced once to Shinji with narrowed eyes before he bent down and shook Ichigo’s hand with a grin. Ichigo decided immediately that he liked Love, and not just because his spirit was cool.

Ichigo had only his instincts and Shinji to protect him when a swirling ball of rage appeared from the rafters. Shinji, holding onto the neck of the Vizard’s red jacket sighed as she kicked at him, and lightly reprimanded, “Hiyori it’s rude to attack people you haven’t even introduced yourself to.”

“Whatever idiot baldy!”

She responded and the two devolved into what appeared to be a verbal and immature fight. Love sighed, brushing a hand over his features as he commented, “That’s Hiyori. Don’t mind the aggressiveness and you should be fine.”

Ichigo nodded and tried to tear his eyes away from Hiyori-san’s spirit. It was a coiling wisp of shadow with streaks of acrid yellow binding it into a vaguely humanoid shape as it screamed around Hiyori. Something inside him recoiled at the sight of it, but Zangetsu’s hand on his shoulder was enough to settle Ichigo’s nerves that he could draw his eyes away from the immature squabble.

The youth wondered if all their spirits were like that, locked up or raving mad. He couldn’t imagine locking Zangetsu away or feeling that rage for countless hours, it would probably drive him crazy as well. Then again, living as long as the Shinigami did would also drive Ichigo crazy.

“Aren’t there more of you?”

Ichigo questioned, dragging his attention away from the calamity occurring in the corner. Love nodded, shifting the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose the man responded with a soft smile, “Rose, Mashiro, and Kensei are sparing and Hachi went out for groceries. It was Shinji’s turn, but he ditched that to pick you up kiddo.”

Shiro’s chuckles surrounded Ichigo’s ears as he felt the weight of his spirit’s arms on his shoulders. Ichigo nodded, and at that moment Lisa snapped her manga shut and stomped over to Shinji and Hiyori and with a voice like liquid ice lectured, “Enough! If I have to hear you two squabble one more time today I will bisect both of you. I swear trade one idiot drunkard for two children.”

Shinji pouted even as Hiyori stuck her tongue out at Lisa’s retreating back where the Vizard was once more settling on the couch. Shinji rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Ichigo with a wink and stated, “Let’s head down to the training area, Mashiro, Kensei, and Rose are there. Also, Hiyori this is Ichigo.”

Hiyori scoffed at the introduction and glared at Ichigo, who wisely (or unwisely) decided to ignore her for the moment. With a nod to Love, Shinji stepped forward and led Ichigo through the warehouse pointing out things as they went before they arrived at a trap door. With a grandiose flourish, Shinji flipped the lid open, a burst of hot air thick with reaitsu rushed out from the opening and a ladder appeared leading into the golden terrain below.

“After ya Ichi,” Shinji beckoned earning a suspicious glare even as Ichigo clambered down the ladder, ignoring Shinji’s lighthearted attempts to push him down. The space below the warehouse was remarkably similar to Kisuke’s training area, except for the sole fact that there were larger quantities of rubble scattered about the place.

They heard the sound of battle, swords clashing, reaitsu swirling before Ichigo saw it. They rounded a corner to a torrent of wind as a Vizard with long curly blond hair and a hooked mask flew back and collided against a well to the left of them. Shinji whistled a laugh and Ichigo’s eyes followed the blond’s spirit, it was faint almost translucent in the artificial light, its skin was like gold wire wrapped around one another like a living mummy, those same wires formed a trailing cloak and a mask that hid the golden eyes beneath.

The Vizard rose from the dust and cleaned the dirt off his suit ignoring the blood staining his lower abdomen as he flew forward at a Shinigami with grey hair. The Shinigami with grey hair was large and had a mask that covered his entire face. There was a spirit behind the Vizard, its body was attached to the earth coated in pale grey plates of armour that reminded Ichigo of a praying mantis, the spirit’s presence was silent.

A cheer caught Ichigo’s attention and his gaze flickered to a Vizard with bright green hair and a jumpsuit, her spirit fluttered around her small and more like a blur of energy, Ichigo could almost hear a light buzzing.

The grey-haired Vizard was sent flying towards Ichigo who hastily flash-stepped away even as Shinji stepped forward and caught the man against one arm with a slip of a smile. The three Vizard stared at Shinji for a moment before he spoke, “Why don’t you all take a break, so I can introduce ya to Ichi.”

The grey-haired Shinigami nodded and slumped to the ground his mask cracking and dissipating and the green-haired Shinigami bounced over to sit beside him. The Shinigami with the long blond hair studied Shinji for a moment before he too glided over, the movement unsteady due to the wound in his abdomen.

“Ichigo the one with the grey hair is Kensei Muguruma, the excitable lady beside him is Mashiro Kuna, and finally the injured blond is Rose Ōtoribashi. Everyone this is Ichigo Kurosaki.”

Shinji announced with a flourish of dramatic hand movements. Mashiro-san bounced over to stare at Ichigo for a few moments before she grinned bright and wide in a sort of instantly endearing manner and named him, “Berry-tan!”

Kensei-san behind her nodded once in greeting and Ichigo had the impression the man was generally the silent and stoic type. Rose-san grimaced but waved as he pressed a hand to his abdomen.

“I can heal that if you’d like?”

Ichigo offered, watching as his near translucent spirit hovered protectively over its wielder, flickering and shifting before disappearing; it was like they all couldn’t see him. The Vizard all paused at Ichigo’s offer and the blond Vizard glanced to Shinji for a long moment before he nodded with something grim in his eyes. Ichigo shuffled forward and watched as the man opened his suit and the blood-stained blouse beneath it. The wound was shallow, and likely hadn’t pierced or damaged any internal organs.

Taking a breath, Ichigo felt Shiro’s presence around him as he channelled his reaitsu, felt the familiar warmth it installed and pressed his fingers above the wound. The bright glow of green kido rippled over Rose’s torso as Shinji watched on with narrow eyes and Mashiro stared wide-eyed. After a few moments, where Ichigo couldn’t feel any ruptures in the blood vessels and the wound had sealed Ichigo let the kido fade.

“Thank you very much, Ichigo.”

Rose said with a nod, something like surprise colouring his low baritone. Ichigo smiled, happy that he was able to heal the Vizard, heal someone outside of training, it was a sign that Ichigo would be able to help his family if they were ever injured again. It was a sign he would be able to live up to his name.

A ripple of reaitsu rustled through the air grabbing the small group’s attention and with a grin, Shinji announced, “Hachi’s back.”

X

The banks were swollen with water, the tidal force of nature lapping at the shore with a voracious hunger as if it sought to flood Karakura. It wasn’t like that night with the rains swelling it even further. But the rush of water was calming and draining in its own sort of way. Ichigo looked at his knuckles saw the bruises and scrapes that covered his hands, some hidden by the bright plasters Yuzu had attacked him with.

There had been a new transfer at school, he was tall and clearly a bit foreign. Ichigo had liked him immediately but he had never been outgoing even before his mom’s death. Ichigo had been walking home from school one day, contemplating what to help Yuzu prepare for dinner when he had heard it.

Some of the local thugs had cornered the transfer student and were beating him. Ichigo hadn’t paused, hadn’t waited, just listened to instinct and the roaring agreement of Zangetsu. It had been worth it to see some light in the depths of those eyes and to hand his coin back to him, it felt like a beginning.

Ichigo wanted to protect his family and friends and that meant being able to defend them, it also meant being the support they needed, being able to heal them when they got injured; healing wasn’t just physical. He wanted to do more and Ichigo was beyond grateful that he had Kisuke and Tessai to teach him the art of kido, but he knew there was more.

It was like the Vizard, from the bare glimpses of what he had seen and had been able to comprehend. Ichigo knew that their souls weren’t healthy, they were keeping half of their soul locked up. Ichigo couldn’t imagine it. Though maybe it was something like losing his mom, that ache that was deeply set into your bones and exhausted you at every step; Ichigo was certain it was something like that. He wanted to help them heal.

Shifting on the river bank, Ichigo thought about that night, a dull ache in his chest at the thought, he knew he hadn’t killed his mom. That had been the Hollow. All the same, Ichigo was the one who had tripped, and his mom had died protecting him.

When Ichigo had mentioned the intense pressure he had felt for a few moments that night, Kisuke had quirked a brow and muttered about heritage into his cup of tea. It made Ichigo recall the funeral and what else had been there.

There was some peace though in the fact that the Hollow hadn’t survived the encounter, Grand Fisher, a Hollow that had preyed on numerous Shinigami. Kisuke hadn’t revealed how his mother had defeated the creature, only nodded his head at Isshin in insinuation. Ichigo couldn’t ask his father, the man was good with his sisters but between the two of them, it felt like there was a chasm gaping its wide maw at Ichigo. The man was still his father, but conversations always felt like planets only ever occasionally intercepting each other.

A gust of wind caught at the river sending a spray of cold mist into the air as it howled around Ichigo. Looking up from his knuckles, Ichigo felt the weight of Zangetsu’s arms on his shoulders even as he noticed a new presence. It was something he had seen flickers of, a shadow and a glint of gold that was almost Hollow-like except the presence was far too different for that.

There was a man standing at the edge of the river bank, he had a long-furled cloak that swayed and moved in the breeze like it was floating, the spirit had curly hair, stubble, and a pair of translucent yellow glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The spirit stared at Ichigo and he stared back. The silence between the two billowed with the wind as Ichigo identified the spirit was his; they always felt closer.

After a minute, where the spirit’s heavy and intense stare lingered he started to move forward gliding over the grass in what could only be described as a phantom-like motion. The spirit stopped a few feet in front of Ichigo and looked down at him, striking blue eyes narrowed in scrutiny. Zangetsu, curled around Ichigo; chuckled, the sound raspy and right near his ear sending chills down his spine.

“I had hoped your powers would remain dormant Ichigo.”

The spirit stated his voice a deep baritone that rumbled like thunder. Ichigo blinked at the statement feeling as if he was missing pieces of the story. The spirit’s lips curved slightly into a smile as he kneeled in the grass in front of Ichigo.

“But I see now, that isn’t possible,” The spirit studied Ichigo for a moment eyes inscrutable before he continued in a quiet sombre tone, “You are remarkably like your mother.”

Ichigo digested the statement with a small frown and a skip of his heart studying the spirit in front of him he asked, “What part of me do you represent?”

The spirit’s gaze drifted away for a moment studying the horizon in silence with a sombre aura that spoke of grief. Ichigo wondered what his spirit saw (and he needed a name) that provoked such emotions.

“A part of your heritage that you don’t need to worry about now Ichigo.”

The spirit, Ossan, Ichigo decided, said his gaze still centred on the horizon. Ossan glanced once to Ichigo, his gaze absorbing the youth for a minute before the spirit shifted out of existence. Ichigo stared at the vacant space where the spirit had stood and wondered what the cryptic words meant. Sighing with a huff of laughter Ichigo rose to his feet, he needed to return home soon or else Yuzu (and Karin) would start to worry.

In any case, Ossan was part of Ichigo’s soul as much as Zangetsu and he had a feeling that if he really needed to know the spirit would explain everything. Ichigo glanced at the river bank only once before he turned on the path towards the Kurosaki Clinic.

X

Shinji swirled the glass of sake in his hands and surveyed his comrades, Shinigami who he had become intimately familiar with over the years of their long exile. There were long shadows in the warehouse, the kind that no matter how many lights were scattered about, seemed only to grow. But that was okay, Rose liked to say it added atmosphere and Love likened it to the mortal lounges Shinji had visited a few times. There was the background lilt of the latest pop band, bright and energetic because it was Lisa’s turn to choose the music, and at their request had not chosen from her heavy metal selection; if the Mortal World had any benefits it was how advanced it was compared to Soul Society.

Soul Society was like a hole in Shinji’s chest something that tugged at his heart and crumpled itself together at the back of his throat. He missed it; they all did. But the Mortal World had its own benefits. Their technology was far ahead of anything Soul Society could dream of, excluding the Twelfth, the various cultures of the world had drifted around Japan leading to a variety of new inventions both culinary and material.

They were on their own now, betrayal had set its mould and the dye was cast. The only thing that had kept them going for so long, training, learning to live with each other, trying to accept the mortal world had been the thought of revenge. Ichigo had been part of that revenge, the potential alone enough to give them hope, but those plans had and were changing; Shinji couldn’t say he faulted Kisuke.

The Mortal World had also led to the Vizard meeting Ichigo. The kid was like a walking miracle, in more ways than one, he was powerful, charismatic, intelligent, and a whole other slew of things that boiled down to one interesting kid. Shinji knew when Ichigo had first walked into the warehouse that he had seen the other’s spirits, maybe the kid had adopted Kisuke’s mannerisms, but some part of Shinji also knew that the kid wasn’t scared.

They were all still cautious around him, he was small, he hardly reached Shinji’s elbow, and he was human. Ichigo didn’t have the durability of a Shinigami, nor did he have the years upon years they all did. But when Ichigo had visited for the second time today he had thrown himself into the spars with a technique that practically screamed prodigy of some kind.

The spars had all been light, no Shikai, just a test of the kid’s skill. Kisuke may have wanted the kid to get experience in fighting people who were more powerful, who had different Shikai, or whatever. But they wanted to know the kid first, see what he could handle.

Kisuke, the mother hen, probably knew that and had only stayed away because of Hiyori’s rather boisterous personality; Shinji didn’t blame the former Captain of the Twelfth Division. Ichigo had surprised them all with the spar, he hadn’t beaten them; that would be ridiculous and pitiful. But he definitely could hold his own for more than ten minutes against most of them (they had decided to wait on unleashing Hiyori on him).

Afterwards, the kid had been content to sit in the living room and talk to everyone about their life story, what Rungokai was like, what division they had been in. If the kid hadn’t been so endearingly honest and curious Shinji would have placed the kid for a plant or a spy of some device by Aizen. But no, that was just Ichigo.

Glancing at the others, Shinji watched them for a moment. Love and Rose were squished together on one of the settees looking at someone’s musical composition. Lisa was in the ugly green armchair a stack of manga at her side along with a notebook and pen. Kensei was sitting on the couch watching the tv as a sport of some kind flashed across it, Mashiro was at his feet letting Kensei weave clumsy braids into the verdant strands. Hachi was in the kitchen humming as he prepared what could be dinner or a round of drinks. And Hiyori? Shinji wasn’t necessarily sure, but he had seen her sulk off into the rafters about an hour ago.

“What do ya’ll think of Ichigo.”

The question rippled through the silence of the room like a pebble dropped into still waters. Lisa’s eyes flickered from her book, Love and Rose glanced up, and Mashiro tilted her head. Love shook his head with a grin, trading a glance with Rose and answered, “He’s interesting, got spunk.”

“I think it is quite interesting that he can see spirits. He showed little reaction to our spirits’ when we were introduced to him.”

Rose added as Hachi peaked his head through the doorway. Lisa huffed and adjusted the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose and added, “He definitely saw them though, I doubt he recognized them for what they are.”

“He has a lot of reaitsu. It’s dangerous for a kid to have that much.”

Kensei added with a grunt as his fingers resumed their braiding. Shinji nodded rubbing a finger over the glass he added, “That’s why Kisuke is training the kid. It’s partially why his mom died.”

Hachi brought out a tray of drinks, steam curling in gentle wisps, and added, “His heritage is that of Shinigami and Quincy, with Hollow thrown in as well correct?”

Shinji nodded and traded his sake for a mug of tea. Rose twisted in his seat and said, “His lack of reaction was interesting. Ichigo is what eight, nine? He didn’t recoil, didn’t scream, didn’t even go pale. Our spirits aren’t the same as the others.”

The words twisted onto the air filling their thoughts. Shinji wondered what the kid had seen, what Ichigo could see if he continued to train with them. Wondered if the kid even knew that their spirits were Hollow, not just strange or dark. They had control over their Hollow side, but accidents could always occur. Shinji wondered why they didn’t scare the kid.

“Berry-tan has a lot of power, so we’ll get to see his reaction when we use our masks.”

Mashiro added as she sipped at the hot chocolate Hachi had prepared for her. Kensei scoffed at the statement and ground his hand against Mashiro’s hair even as Lisa set her book down and questioned, “Should we even be interacting with him? We could awaken his own Hollow nature. The kid could end up hating us.”

“Thank you for the ever-nihilistic commentary,” Shinji replied even as the heavy atmosphere settled like lead in their bones at the statement. They were taking a risk with the kid, maybe he would end up hating them, maybe he would grow to fear their zanpaktou spirits. Shinji didn’t know if he would be able to handle the kid looking at them like that, with fear in his eyes, or to see the kid with golden eyes lost in his own mind.

“If we awaken the midget’s Hollow nature we’ll just train him, idiots.”

Hiyori snapped where she appeared from the hallway a scowl on her features as she settled onto one of the chairs and picked up Shinji’s discarded sake. Shinji shook his head with a snort at Hiyori’s answer.

“Regardless, Ichigo asked to train with us, it is a chance for us to learn more about our own spirits.”

Rose added as his long spindly fingers coiled around a mismatched mug. Love squished beside the thin blond nodded his agreement and added, “Ichigo will awaken his Hollow nature eventually. He’s already one of us.”

Love didn’t mean having a Hollow side. They all cared for Ichigo, sure it was only the second time most of them had met the kid, but Ichigo was honest in a way things hadn’t been for years. He cared, looked at them as if they were more than what they had been forced into. Shinji had no doubt they would only come to care more for the kid over time.

“We will see with time,” Hachi added summing up the Vizard’s thoughts before he added, “Now come drink, tea is best drunk hot.”

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it set up a lot of the Vizard’s future interactions and introduced Old Man Zangetsu. It was really fun to capture all the interesting personalities in the Vizard, I hope you also enjoyed the description of their spirits. Also keep in mind that Ichigo doesn't necessarily realise that the Vizard's spirits are Hollow, just that they're dark in nature. I’ll be explaining why they didn’t react to Ichigo and their appearances at a later date. Reviews/comments are always appreciated, till next time!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, we are back with another chapter. This one is certainly interesting and starts to delve into the problem with the Vizard. Just a note, at the beginning of the chapter Ichigo doesn’t exactly realise what it means that the Vizard are well, the Vizard. That will all be explained in the chapter though. Thanks to everyone for the positive feedback in the last chapter. Read on and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo

X

Ichigo entered the industrial district alone; this in of itself wasn’t necessarily an unusual fact as this had happened more than a few times. What was unusual was that one of the Vizard was not a step behind Ichigo, nor hiding obtrusively, or parking a vehicle of some kind in a hidden garage. Usually, if Ichigo was heading to the warehouse immediately after school, which occurred weekly, one of the Vizard would accompany him. But something had come up, some issue that they felt he didn’t need to worry about. Kisuke had offered to walk Ichigo, if only for his own peace of mind, and even Isshin had offered to drop Ichigo off at his ‘training’.

He had denied the offers, it wasn’t too far a walk from the school if he rode the regional bus, and besides Ichigo wasn’t helpless and he wasn’t defenceless; he had already established his rule over the local Yakuza. It wasn’t cockiness, Ichigo knew that Zangetsu wouldn’t let anything happen, and Ichigo knew his own strength. When you sparred against Shinigami who had trained for centuries and could beat you in a minute it was easy to feel humble.

The broad light of the early afternoon slanted and wavered over the collection of warehouses near the Vizard’s base, catching and dragging out the shadows hiding in the dark. Ichigo’s hand tightened imperceptibly on the strap of his backpack as his eyes darted around, his reaitsu reaching around him to sense anything irregular. A few of the more daring idiots had tried to harass Ichigo outside of the district but there was nothing now just the cool whistle of wind through the panelling all around him.

It was subtle, a barely noticeable distortion of air that could have been mistaken for summer heat if it wasn’t the middle of fall. Ichigo’s eyes narrowed at the sight and he could feel Zangetsu shift to attention the intangible weight of the spirit suddenly behind him, the flicker of cloth; a stormy mix of white and black appearing in the corner of his vision. Allowing his reaitsu to pool around him like Kisuke had shown him (and decided was the best method) Ichigo stepped cautiously forward.

If it was a Kido barrier, it would react when he reached a certain distance. It could be one of Hachi’s for proximity or any other manner of things. Or it could be one of Soul Society’s. Ichigo didn’t know why the Vizard were in Karakura, only that they weren’t exactly friendly with Soul Society and that would be warning enough. It could also be a Hollow, Ichigo acknowledged as his hand tightened into a fist; sometimes they had weird quirks beyond size or appendages.

There was a spike of reaitsu, noticeable as it rose amongst the sea of his own reaitsu and a snap of instincts that bristled behind his spine. Ichigo darted to the side in a whirl of shunpo and turned his attention on his surroundings. There was nothing visible, only deep gouges in the pavement where he had once been standing and a shimmer of heat waves all around him. Tensing slightly Ichigo forced himself to relax and materialized his Zanpakutō.

Ichigo listened to his instincts as they guided him into a roll and to his feet before spinning out with a slash of Zangetsu. Crimson painted the air in an arc as if appearing from nowhere accompanied by the grating roar of a Hollow. But still, nothing was visible. Peering out of the corner of his eye at Zangetsu Ichigo questioned, “Can you see it?”

The spirit shook his head and one hand tugged Ichigo out of the way of a claw; the invisible weapon passing clean through Zangetsu was a somewhat disconcerting image. Ichigo frowned and closed his eyes; if he couldn’t see the Hollow then he would have to hear it. Ichigo never thought he would be thankful for the multitude of times Kisuke had blindfolded him in their spars.

Ichigo inhaled and exhaled listening to his surroundings, to the heavy footsteps of the Hollow, its harsh breathing, the grind of something, likely a tail, against the pavement, and moved. Zangetsu flashed through the air as Ichigo moved forward in a quick shunpo only for the Hollow to disappear. Rolling to his feet Ichigo frowned, Hollows didn’t just teleport, or at least most of them didn’t do that and be invisible. The more powerful ones, called Espada could, Kisuke called it Sonido. But they were all in Hueco Mundo.

With a flash of warning, Ichigo ducked out of the way and spun around Zangetsu catching once more on the Hollow; it was only a shallow wound. Feeling a slight panic start to rise at the back of his throat at the thought of fighting this Hollow who was different from the ones he had encountered on patrol, Ichigo took a deep breath and focused on his reaitsu and what Zangetsu was telling him.

Ichigo’s spirit wasn’t like Benihime, and not just because all spirits were different, Zangetsu was something else, more instinct than logic at times. He knew what it was already, had seen it in Zangetsu’s appearance and what they had discovered when they were training on their own. But Ichigo didn’t understand it and was content to wait for Kisuke to explain when the man decided it was time.

Listening to the snap of reaitsu, Ichigo rolled under an overhead strike and began to recite the chant for a Kido in his mind. If Ichigo had the right opportunity he could attempt to blast the Hollow with a full powered Shakkahō. Perhaps, that would stop whatever was keeping the creature from being seen.

Pressing one hand to his side as Ichigo gathered his reaitsu he focused on what Tessai always said during their impromptu despair-filed Kido lessons. Tessai would grin, ruffle Ichigo’s hair and say, “Just focus on one layer at a time, like architecture each verse is one floor.”

So, Ichigo did that as he sprinted to the other side of the clearing and hid for a moment in the shade of a warehouse attempting to catch his breath. The wind whistled, and the air hummed as Ichigo jumped over a low sweeping attack and let Zangetsu whip out with his unoccupied hand. The blade didn’t connect; Ichigo could feel that as he whirled away drawing closer to the last verse. The feel of the Kido was around his hand, hot and burning from the tips of his fingers to his heart.

Ichigo waited till he felt the torrent of air pass over his face as he ducked to release the Kido. The Shakkahō burst from his hand in a spark of crimson and collided with the invisible Hollow in a flash that forced the creature back with a howl. Ichigo stood for a moment and stared, something inside of him cheering viciously that he had managed to cast the Kido even as his body tensed and he ducked.

It was a moment too late and Ichigo coughed out half of his lung as he collided with one of the warehouse's walls. In a single moment, the air was driven from his lungs and Zangetsu clattered to the ground beside him. Ichigo blinked his eyes open and stared at the blurry image of the world in front of him even as his instincts were screaming at him to get up, move, or he would die. Then who would he be able to protect?

“Ichigo!”

A voice called as clumsy fingers grasped weakly at Zangetsu’s hilt. Ichigo glanced up and blinked, Mashiro was running towards him, none of the normal bounce in her step she was sprinting as if she could see the Hollow in front of him. She was wearing her mask the one that they rarely wore in front of him.

Ichigo glanced up, time seeming like molasses in his hands as the air shimmered in front of him and his instincts tolled like the bells of a city spelling out danger. Suddenly, Mashiro was in front of Ichigo, a burst of reaitsu that was distinctively not Shinigami accompanying the humming motion as a torrent of reaitsu surged from her outstretched palm and sliced through the air, and presumably the Hollow.

It clicked and Ichigo stared up at the green-haired Vizard with wide eyes as the invisible Hollow crumpled to dust. Mashiro turned, concern written on her features as she crouched in front of him one hand reaching to close over his own as she smiled at him; it wasn’t the normal wide an energetic smile it was tender.

“Are you okay Ichigo?”

Mashiro questioned softly as Ichigo stared at her the adrenaline from the fight beginning to fade. It left Ichigo with the overwhelming realisation of his survival and what the Vizard actually were. He managed a rough nod eventually.

It was obvious in hindsight, and maybe Ichigo had always known. Their masks, their spirits’ gold eyes, the darkest part of them all of it seemed glaringly obvious. Though in Ichigo’s defence there was no information about how it was even possible, and they surely didn’t talk about it. Not to mention while their spirits were different from Benihime, Zangetsu was different from them. Ichigo just wanted an explanation.

A hand appeared in front of Ichigo’s eyes and he glanced up at Mashiro who was staring at him with furrowed brows and a pout. The energetic woman gently grasped Ichigo’s shoulders and with one movement tugged him to his feet (it was easy to forget how strong Mashiro was) Zangetsu’s blade dematerializing and fading away as Ichigo let his reaitsu settle. He could feel his spirit hovering behind him, warm and like an embrace as Mashiro checked him over for injuries.

As if on autopilot Ichigo did the same first, for Mashiro and then himself. Mashiro was unharmed but Ichigo had some bruising on the back of his skull and a few shallow abrasions from the pavement; though thankfully there was no sign of a concussion.

“Let’s go back okay Ichi? Everyone’s waiting,” Mashiro stated and started to walk swinging Ichigo’s hand in hers as she continued to fill the silence, “Everyone was starting to get worried when you didn’t arrive at the usual time. Shinji started pacing, and that’s a sign that he was really worried. And then the proximity wards Hachi set up tripped and we were all super worried. Shinji wanted to come himself but then Hiyori; well he was needed along with everyone else. But they had it handled well enough, so I came!”

Ichigo processed the jumble of words as he held Mashiro’s hand taking a fraction of comfort in the warmth of her fingers. He wondered now as he recalled their spirits, how he had noticed they were unhealthy. He wondered, and it festered in his mind like the logic problems Benihime gave him.

As soon as Ichigo entered the warehouse he was swamped on all sides by most of the Vizard. Hachi was in the forefront looking both Mashiro and Ichigo over while Shinji hovered over the man’s shoulder. Love and Rose were staring in concern on his left and Lisa was on his right studying him with those intense eyes of hers. Their spirits weren’t visible yet, all the same, the air felt supercharged.

“What happened?”

Shinji demanded as he bundled Ichigo over to the couch and Mashiro spoke to Kensei alone for a moment, their foreheads touching, and hands clasped. Ichigo squished his face up and shrugged which earned a glare from Shinji accompanied by a raised brow.

“There was a Hollow, but it was invisible,” Ichigo stated and Shinji nodded likely gathering there was more to the story if only from Ichigo’s still somewhat shocked expression. Ichigo continued, “But the Hollow could teleport. I landed a few hits on it, but sometimes it wasn’t even where it was supposed to be. Oh! I used Shakkahō on it, and it worked,” Shinji smiled at the news but nodded again features grim

Ichigo took a breath and frowned suddenly losing the energy his earlier success had provided him with the youth continued, “The Hollow surprised me, and I hit a wall, no concussion, but I was dazed and couldn’t get up. Then Mashiro appeared and she used an energy-based attack to purify the Hollow.”

Shinji’s gaze widened at Ichigo’s statement, and he could feel the attention of the others at his words. The leader of the Vizard surveyed Ichigo once as if to verify his words before his gaze flickered to Mashiro and his eyes narrowed. Ichigo felt the tension in the room skyrocket like a visible fog settling around him as the others stared at Ichigo with varying expressions he couldn’t see but felt where he was squished into the couch cushion.

Zangetsu appeared beside Ichigo and wrapped his arms around him as a silence descended, a sort of awkward one that was trying to be dramatic as the Vizard stared at each other. Ichigo took the opportunity offered to him and tried to analyse how he felt about the revelation. His mom had been killed by a Hollow. The Vizard were something between Shinigami and Hollow.

Ichigo wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel bitter. He didn’t hate Hollows; did he hate Grand Fisher? Yes. But all Hollows? No, how could he? They were souls who had been unable to pass on and their soul chain had devoured them. It wasn’t their fault, in fact, it was the Shinigami’s lack of presence in the human world that likely contributed to the growing Hollow population; at least that was what Benihime reasoned. But regardless of facts Kisuke had delivered the first night Ichigo had been introduced to reaitsu, he didn’t hate Hollows.

Did he feel bitter about the Vizard not telling him? Ichigo wondered for a moment before acknowledging that while they had never confirmed it, they had been plain enough. Ichigo supposed in the end that what bothered him most, as always, drew back to their spirits, to how unhealthy their souls were. He was a protector, a healer. The Vizard were family and they were suffering.

A pale-yellow mug appeared in front of Ichigo’s eyes and he glanced up to see Hachi holding the mug. There was something infinitely warm in the man’s eyes and Ichigo grinned in thanks as he accepted the hot chocolate. Sipping quietly on the warm drink as it seeped its way through the dull layer of shock Ichigo watched as Shinji and the others spoke in a quiet circle occasionally glancing at him.

The doors to the warehouse slid open with a creak that practically demanded someone oil the hinges, Kisuke stood in the entryway with Yoruichi behind him. The scientist’s hat was tipped low over his eyes as he surveyed the room and Yoruichi stood poised with lethal grace; it was all very dramatic and intimidating. When Kisuke’s eyes landed on Ichigo, the man’s shoulders untensed and the man strode forward ignoring the Vizard.

“Are you okay Ichigo?”

Kisuke questioned, one hand reaching out to ruffle his hair as he crouched in front of Ichigo. Sipping at his hot chocolate, Ichigo nodded and after peering around for eavesdroppers he asked, “Are they going to continue talking all night or give an explanation?”

The man in front of him chuckled, the sound familiar and comforting as it was accompanied by a flash of teeth that formed a grin. Kisuke nodded something flashing in his eyes as he asked, “Explain what?”

“How or why part of their souls is Hollow.”

Ichigo responded deciding to play the game with Kisuke. Benihime standing ethereally behind her owner, the long fall of black hair shining in the light, winked once at Ichigo before fading away. Kisuke blinked at the question, tilted his head, bit his lip, furrowed his brow, and finally responded, “Ah that.”

“Yes, that. Mashiro clearly used Hollow based techniques when she defended me, I think that she used Sonido and Cero but I’m not certain.”

Ichigo replied and took a sip of his hot chocolate peering at his uncle over the lip of the yellow mug. Kisuke scratched a hand through his hair, ignoring his hat, and stared at Ichigo before he shook his head and replied, “You are too smart for your own good Ichigo. But yes, we’ll explain everything,” In a whisper to himself he added, “It’s necessary if you were targeted.”

Then Kisuke stood up, ruffled Ichigo’s hair, and drifted over to speak to Shinji and the group huddle of Vizard. Ichigo debated the merit of waiting for them to finish the exclusive discussion over barging in and demanding an answer right away. But the couch was comfy, and he was warm so, Ichigo decided he could wait for ten minutes and no more.

Eventually, they all moved over to the seating area, settling and squishing into place with their collective attention focused on Ichigo. A silence descended, thick and awkward as if no one could decide who should start first and what to say.

“We weren’t born like this,” Love stated, and Ichigo could feel his gaze from behind the shade of his glasses. The man frowned and continued, “This was forced upon us.”

Ichigo frowned at the knowledge and wondered how it was possible to change a soul like that. Kisuke tipped his hat over his eyes shading his face in shadows he added, “You know that everyone here once held a position in Soul Society Ichigo. There was or rather is a traitor among the Shinigami, Aizen Sosuke. He is a genius, a megalomaniac, and incredibly powerful.”

“He’s also a right fu-fricking bastard. He’s the one who did this ta us, has killed and made experiments of others too.”

Shinji added with a vitriol in his voice Ichigo hadn’t heard before. This person, Aizen he sounded dangerous beyond even the might of Soul Society if his mechanisation extended as far back as they appeared. Ichigo nodded, pushing aside the thoughts for later contemplation he questioned, “So how does it work with you guys?”

Something seemed to settle in the air at the question, something that had been tense like someone waiting on the edge of a seat. Shinji and Kisuke traded a meaning-filled glance even as Lisa stated, “Our Zanpakutō spirits were Hollowfied. They became uncontrollable able to take over our bodies we became locked in a fight for dominance. It is through Kisuke’s intervention that we were given the time to learn how to suppress our spirits. We are able to draw on that power and use the masks you’ve seen along with other technique.”

The answer was clinical, technical like something read from a textbook. Lisa, for all the cold exterior, didn’t speak like that normally. There was something apathetic to her gaze, like if she spoke about it any other way it would be too real. Ichigo didn’t like what he was hearing. Suppressing their Zanpakutō spirit? How could one cut out half their soul, bar the door on communication, and not go crazy?

If Ichigo had learned anything through Zangetsu and Benihime it was that your soul, your Zanpakutō, no matter how it reflected it, was a part of you, it was you in a sense. Zangetsu shifted at Ichigo’s back and Ichigo knew his spirit felt the same. Suddenly, Ichigo couldn’t accept that, leaving his family to be cut off from half their soul, their drive for revenge clear now that Ichigo understood the purpose.

Ichigo glanced up from the mug in his hands, noticed the anxious glances and stated, “I think you’re going about it all wrong. Zangetsu is like your spirits and we get along perfectly well. Your spirits are all trapped, immobilized, or hardly cognizant. That’s not right.”

They stared at Ichigo, really stared at him in a drowning silence that he was beginning to tire of. After a moment, Shinji tipped his head back and began laughing, the sound was light at first glance but there was something else beneath it all, something like a sob. Love shook his head and stared at Ichigo, Mashiro was grinning as if she had been right all along, and Rose was staring at his hands with something like guilt in his eyes. Hachi was studying Ichigo with something like awe and Kisuke and Yoruichi were staring at him with wide eyes.

“Only you Ichigo.”

Shinji announced as he regained his breath shaking his head and staring at the kid curled up on the couch. The kid who was smarter than them all, probably, the kid whose answer was so simple in words yet complicated beyond measure, in reality, the kid with a spirit like theirs and he knew it (and they all wondered now what the kid thought of them, of their spirits).

Kensei stood drawing the attention of the group he walked over to Ichigo and kneeled down, so they could look each other in the eyes. The Vizard, who held a stoic exterior like a coat of armour but was a softie on the inside reached out and ruffled Ichigo’s hair before asking, “Do you think you could help us fix things then Ichigo?”

The Vizard stared at Ichigo; he could see Kisuke and Yoruichi studying him, could almost feel the pause in the air. He could almost see the faint shadows of their spirits. They were his family as much as Yuzu and Karin, they were training him, and he would return the favour. Ichigo nodded with a bright smile.

X

Aizen stared at the monitor in front of him with a frown, Kaname stood behind him with something pleased to his reaitsu. The Shinigami thought he had been the first to notice the irregularity in the video footage. Sosuke had noticed it over a year before but had chosen to wait and see how the situation developed.

Ichigo Kurosaki, the outcome of his experimental Hollow, Isshin Shiba, and Masaki Kurosaki. The child had potential for his bloodline alone; he would grow to challenge Aizen in power and likely ability; something worth noting in the isolation his powers imposed.

But the child was growing beyond his expectations and the plans outlined. The pawns were moving on their own accord. Aizen wasn’t certain if the fact was irritating or intriguing for the potential it provided.

Masaki Kurosaki had died as planned, but Kisuke, the thrice-damned meddler, had taken a material position in Ichigo’s life. Aizen understood how the scientist’s mind worked, had known he would prefer to remain unattached to Ichigo while his plans bore fruition. But Kisuke had interfered, had gotten close to the child and was training him in the Shinigami arts.

It was also likely, from the footage the insects had gathered of the child walking towards the industrial district (where footage shorted out due to the Kido barriers) that he was training with the Vizard.

There was also the footage Kaname was so proud of finding. Aizen had noticed the child speaking to the air, speaking to nothing even when the insects were able to observe the spiritual plane within the Mortal World. At first, Aizen had estimated it was an imaginary friend; they were common for young children even those who saw spirits.

But then, Ichigo had materialized a sealed Zanpakutō and its name when he fought against a Hollow. Aizen was certain now that the child was, in fact, seeing Zanpakutō spirits. There were little other reasonable deductions. The prospect was interesting, and it left Sosuke to wonder how the child’s growth would be affected.

Staring at the screen, Aizen watched as Ichigo Kurosaki spoke to thin air and planned.

X

Ichigo tucked the groceries in his hands under one arm as he opened the door. He ducked automatically under his father’s outstretched foot letting the overgrown man-child fly out onto the street. Closing the door behind him Ichigo shook his head and entered their home. It was different to how it had been when his mom had been alive; there had been more of a feminine touch, something a bit warmer too. But it was still their home regardless.

Yuzu and Karin were seated at the dining room table, an empty plate and two mugs between the two along with everything one could need to complete homework; which was to say a mountain of paper. Karin was slumped forward, her head planted on the table as if that would allow her to absorb the information on the sheets, Yuzu was dutifully filling it out with a determined look she had taken straight from Ichigo. It was math homework he decided. Nothing else could put an expression like that on a seven-year olds face.

Yuzu was the first to notice Ichigo as he shuffled towards the kitchen, keeping a wary eye on the floor to see if their father had attempted to cook. Again. Their dad was good at making three recipes and that was his repertoire. Anything else tended to blow up like Ichigo’s attempts at Kido.

“Ichi-nii!”

Yuzu chirped slipping from the table to run over and wrap her skinny arms around him. Ichigo grinned at his younger sister but couldn’t ruffle her hair like he wanted to due to his occupied hands. Pulling back, Yuzu noticed the groceries in his hands and her eyes brightened. She had given him strict instructions that morning to buy ingredients for both onigiri and mochi so that Yuzu could try their mom’s recipe.

“Hi, Ichigo.”

Karin greeted with a wave where she had lifted her head up from the table. Ichigo grinned at Karin and replied, “I’ll come to help you with your homework. Let me just get dinner started okay?”

The dark-haired twin brightened at his words and nodded with a wide grin that was far more predatory then it needed to be; maybe having Tatsuki tutor Karin in martial arts (particularly judo) wasn’t the best idea; at least Yuzu had chosen tai-chi. Ichigo looked down when he felt a tug on his shirt and followed Yuzu into the kitchen.

“How was training today?”

Yuzu asked as together they worked to put the small bag of groceries away, pulling out the stool to reach the higher shelves, and debating whether to put the rice on the lower shelf for the future or to follow tradition. Nodding as Ichigo pulled out the rice cooker and put a pot of water on the stove he responded, “It was good, Kisuke showed me a new move to use when one of the local Yakuza try to use a knife on me.”

Karin’s head peaked over the window at that statement with keen intrigue; Ichigo could tell his sister would become a vicious power on the streets in her own right. Yuzu didn’t gasp, she had long demanded the truth and gotten used to it instead, she replied, “Just be careful Ichi-nii.”

“Always,” Ichigo responded honestly as he chopped the pork before with a tilt of his head he asked the twins, “How was school?”

Karin groaned at the question as if the mere thought of school was torture while Yuzu shrugged as she passed Ichigo the chopped vegetables. Ichigo took the plate and added it to the pot checking on the rice. Suddenly, Yuzu brightened as if remembering something and added, “On the way home from school Karin saw a ghost.”

“Really? Where?”

Ichigo asked curiously, part of him screaming in warning to Konsou the soul as soon as possible so it wouldn’t attract Hollows (a redundant point considering his reaitsu). Karin and Yuzu shared a glance that he pretended not to notice, as any brother should when it came to twins and returned his attention to the simmering pot.

“Near the school.”

Yuzu replied as she hopped up onto the stool beside Ichigo to peer at the pot. Ichigo handed the spoon to her and guided her arm in the correct movement like his mom had shown him. Smiling at the twins he suggested, “How about we walk home from school together tomorrow and you can show me where.”

Karin made a face at Ichigo, but Yuzu nodded in that endearing way of hers that made Ichigo recall tiny little hands grasping his own. Nodding to himself Ichigo studied the pot and decided that the kitchen would survive if he sat at the dining table and helped the twins with their homework. With a mischievous grin, Ichigo attacked and picked Yuzu up tucking her over his shoulder and accompanying the motion with an evil laugh.

Yuzu’s fists battered weakly against his shoulder as Ichigo marched over to the table struggling only a tiny bit with her weight as Karin followed behind and demanded he put her down. With a chuckle, Ichigo plopped Yuzu on her seat at the table. She giggled even as Karin with a huff slunk to her seat.

It made Ichigo happy to see his sisters like this. After their mom had died, it had felt like the life had been sucked out of their home, like everyone had just been going through the motion. That had changed now, Yuzu smiled and though Karin had adopted a tough exterior she was just as happy as Yuzu.

“Now why don’t you show me what’s giving you trouble.”

Ichigo stated as he slid into a chair beside his sisters peering at the sheets of paper with his own curling sense of dread. Ichigo was smart, Benihime would accept nothing less, but regardless, homework was homework and he still had his own to do. Together they went over the equations, Ichigo explained it patiently and tried to teach it to the twins in a way that they might understand better than the teacher’s explanation.

“Ichigo?”

Karin questioned as the twins worked on the problems on their own and Ichigo took a moment to breathe feeling Zangetsu’s presence around him as the spirit rested his elbows on Ichigo’s shoulders an intangible weight. Ichigo nodded and Karin’s eyes flickered up, as if to Zangetsu before she added, “Lately, I’ve been seeing some things that aren’t spirits. Yuzu’s seen it occasionally too.”

Ichigo paused at the information surprise making its way across his features for a moment. Dumbly he responded, “Oh.”

Yuzu and Karin traded another glance and Ichigo shook himself from the shock and with a nod at Zangetsu Ichigo turned to the twins and with seriousness pulling at his features he explained, “I think what you are seeing is the same as what I’m seeing. You know how Shinigami have Zanpakutō spirits?” Ichigo questioned and when the girls nodded he continued, “Well what you’re seeing is my Zanpakutō spirit, I think. His name is Zangetsu. You might also be seeing uncle Kisuke’s spirit; her name is Benihime. They can’t touch you, but they can talk to you. But you can’t tell anyone okay?”

“You know your spirit Ichigo?”

Karin questioned something pensive in her eyes as she stared at the space behind Ichigo. Yuzu was also staring with a light frown curling her lips as Ichigo nodded once. At that moment, the door to their home slammed open and their dad appeared. He took one look at the three of them together at the dinner table and began to wail to the poster of mom about family values.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and entered the kitchen to escape his father, but first, he flashed a wink at the twins. As he checked on the food, Ichigo could hear Karin attempt to berate their father for sobbing at the portrait of their mom even as Yuzu tried to make peace of their situation. They were his family and he would protect them no matter what.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading I hope you enjoyed this chapter! In this one, we’ve set up the base for the Vizard to begin healing. Also, Aizen makes an appearance, what steps the megalomaniac will take who knows. Just a quick explanation, the twins were given a very basic outline on the afterlife for their own safety (Masaki was adamant on this fact). Reviews/comments are always appreciated, till next time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, we are here with the next chapter. I’m sorry I didn’t post last week but I needed a bit of a break from the story and it was (Canadian) Thanksgiving so I was spending time with family. Thank you for understanding. I hope you enjoy this chapter, read on!
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo

X

Ichigo rolled onto his feet, Zangetsu snapping up in front of him as another zanpaktou collided with his in a screech of sparks. Ichigo moved quickly; he wasn’t strong enough against an adult to try and hold out. He disappeared in a burst of shunpo and appeared behind his opponent, the Vizard whipped around, her zanpaktou was still sealed but the mask on her features was harsh against the light of the underground training area. Ichigo’s eyes strayed for a moment as he paused light on his feet and alert.

Lisa’s spirit hovered behind her, the gossamer wings that normally cocooned the spirit were humming and whipping through the air, sharp and deadly like glass. Zangetsu’s hand guided his own as the blade snapped up to intercept Lisa’s, they engaged in a flurry of movement; something like a dance but far too vicious. As Zangetsu helped guide Ichigo’s movements he observed the zanpaktou spirit opposite him.

It fluttered and twitched angrily, and its mouth opened as if in a silent scream as its wielder fought with the mask on her features. There was something agitated about the spirit, even more so than the tension when the mask wasn’t worn. Ichigo could also see, as he ducked under an overhead swing using his height to his advantage, that the spirit was attempting to contact Lisa, yelling her name over and over again; she was also trying to claw her.

It made the frown of concentration on Ichigo’s features deepen. This was the first time since the Hollow attack that they were going to try some healing, that they were going to try and use Ichigo’s powers. There had been a training session in between where everyone had acted as if nothing had happened even though the air had been awkward and full of long uncommunicated looks. But they were willing to try now, it just had to set in, was the excuse they had used.

He could feel Shinji and Hachi waiting a short distance away, partially to observe Ichigo’s technique and partially for his safety. So, that if something with the spirit or Lisa happened they could step in. They had fought on it, allowing Ichigo to fight the Vizard while they used their masks. But Ichigo needed to see their spirits and how they acted when their masks were donned.

Feeling a light tug on the back of his t-shirt Ichigo pulled back just in time to watch Lisa’s zanpaktou cut through the space his chest had been. There was something about the movement that was unsteady. Lisa was always controlled, like ice and just as unyielding. Lisa flew forward using shunpo and Ichigo caught her blade on his own as he studied the mask in front of him. Only Mashiro was able to use any of the Hollow techniques Kisuke had told him about, and it wasn’t just because she worked hard. Mashiro’s connection to her spirit was different from the rest, it didn’t feel parasitic like the others; it was like it was supposed to be, symbiotic.

Ichigo knew with a certainty that burned through his thoughts that if the Vizard could re-establish or even strengthen the bond with their zanpaktou spirits, they would be powerful beyond even the boost the transformation had originally provided. And if they learned how to use Garganta, Sonido, Cero? Well, Ichigo vindictively supposed Aizen would have a lot more to be afraid of.

Ichigo gasped as Lisa landed a roundhouse kick on his solar plexus, all the air whooshing out of his lungs in a way that made his eyes sting. Ichigo turned the fall into a roll and rose to his feet with his hands raised in surrender. Lisa’s blade hovered in front of his neck and with a loud crack her mask split apart and turned into dust. Something in Ichigo’s chest that had been tight was a bit loose again.

Clapping echoed in the overarching space of the underground training area and Ichigo groaned and shook his head. Lisa dropped her sword and rolled her eyes at Shinji as he stalked towards them every movement that of a predator. They all walked like soldiers; dangerous.

“That was a good fight Ichigo, Lisa.”

Shinji commented with a piano grin his eyes sweeping over the two of them with something possessive. Lisa nodded once at the compliment and strode off towards Hachi. Shinji didn’t react to Lisa’s blunt mannerisms and turned his attention on Ichigo.

“So, did you learn anything of interest Ichi?”

Shinji questioned something heartbreakingly hopeful in his voice as he stared down at Ichigo with bright eyes. Zangetsu’s presence hovered behind Ichigo as he sealed his blade away, after a moment, Ichigo nodded. He was still trying to figure out how he was supposed to help the Vizard. Ichigo was eight almost nine, how was he supposed to be able to plan a therapy session?

Benihime and Zangetsu were helping, they had suggestions and words of wisdom, and even Ossan had pitched in. But Ichigo felt the weight of it on his shoulders. If he couldn’t help the Vizard their souls would be left to suffer, and if he failed when helping them? There was the chance he could make it worse. But Ichigo couldn’t let his hesitations stop him, he had to try.

Shinji grinned and ruffled Ichigo’s hair before landing a guiding hand on his shoulder and moving Ichigo forward towards the ladder. Shinji glanced at Ichigo for a moment before he looked up and stated, “We’re gonna head upstairs now and ya can take a break in the livin’ room. If ya wanna discuss what ya saw. Ya don’t have ta though Ichi. We ain’t pushing this on ya, we’re more than grateful that ya helping us okay? Ya don’t owe us any time all right?”

Ichigo stared at Shinji who had stopped in front of the ladder his words resounding around them. It was just the two of them and their spirits, he could see Sakande now wrapped around her owner bandages floating ethereally upside down. Ichigo nodded and moved forward to stand beside Shinji for a moment. The blond grinned down at Ichigo and elbowed his way forward to the ladder. Ichigo laughed and ducked under Shinji’s arms and clambered up the ladder first.

X

Ichigo and Shinji entered the living room with laughter on their breaths, Shinji was ruffling the kid’s hair and Ichigo was swatting at him with a grin. Rose squished beside Love as they poured over the music sheets their editor had returned glanced up and watched the child. Ichigo was interesting, things did not add up around him; it was like the sudden flip from a minor key to a major one, dissonant at best. Rose, and by extent Love, both knew that if Ichigo wasn’t so young, didn’t hold onto that childish naivety even in the face of everything, that they wouldn’t trust him.

It was still baffling that they did Rose supposed. The betrayal of one of their comrades was still fresh, still lingered like a raw open wound, beginning to fester like an infection. They had formed a close-knit group whose outside contact had been limited to Kisuke’s entourage and faceless mortals who they could never become close to. They all didn’t want to contemplate how jaded that made them. Interacting with a child was different, it felt like they were all walking on eggshells; even if the kid now knew about their Hollow nature. Ichigo was still a kid, he didn’t understand the blood and brutality Soul Society was so good at hiding.

But then again, Rose supposed that was why Kisuke had begun training Ichigo. Soul Society was bound to notice his powers sooner rather than later and it was far better to be prepared than to send a child in blind. It all worried them that Aizen’s eyes were also set on the child.

Shinji steered Ichigo to an open seat studying the gathered Vizard with eyes of warning. Their leader was protective of Ichigo; at heart they all were. Still, Love’s fingers crossed over Rose’s as they studied the sheets on the table in silent communication. Rose hummed an ascent even as he scowled at one of the notations their editor had included, that part was clearly a crescendo, not a diminuendo.

Glancing up from the sheets as Shinji curled into the armchair that was conveniently placed where they all could see it, Rose glimpsed Hachi and Lisa talking in the kitchen. Hiyori was likely lying in wait for an ambush; which she had gleefully taken to springing on Ichigo. Kensei and Mashiro were seated together on the couch pouring over a magazine. Well, it was more Mashiro talking and Kensei responding every so often with a noncommittal noise.

“How was training Ichigo?”

Love questioned tilting his glasses, so he could see Ichigo curled up on the other armchair better. Rose’s eyes flickered first to Love who liked Ichigo for his spunk and then to the child in question. Ichigo grinned all bright enthusiasm, and replied, “It was really great. When Lisa uses her mask all of her attack power increases exponentially.”

“Exponentially? Where’d ya learn a word like that?”

Shinji leered at the kid even as the unspoken question about what they all really wanted to know but weren’t going to push for hung on the air. Ichigo stuck his tongue out at Shinji and replied with a huff and a secretive grin, “Benihime taught me it. She uses ginormous words when we talk because she is… she’s dignified.”

Rose’s lips curled slightly at the answer because it was endearing to listen to an eight-year-old say words like ginormous and Rose wasn’t such a fool as to deny that. Love chuckled under his breath, as an unsubtle elbow jostled his side. Rolling his eyes, Rose traded a quick glance with Love before returning his attention to the conversation at hand. Shinji was cawing with laughter, cackling in that way that set him up as the perfect movie villain with ease. Ichigo was staring at the blond with a raised brow as if he expected better of their immature leader.

“Ne Ichigo?”

Mashiro interrupted the magazine in her hands forgotten as she stared at Ichigo with all the bright enamoured look of a puppy. Ichigo tilted his head in response and Mashiro smiled and asked, “Can you see my spirit?”

Rose stared at Mashiro for a minute, a long one, and Love was right there with him. There had been an unofficial rule that they weren’t going to bring it up unless Ichigo himself brought it up. No matter how curious or desperate they were (Rose could hear the dissonance like too many notes strung together, like an out of tune piano). They had even given Kensei the explicit job of clearing that up with Mashiro. And yet here they were.

Ichigo’s eyes darted to the left of Mashiro’s head and he nodded once before he squished his features together in thought and added, “I can see her, she’s very fast though, and I can sort of hear her voice. I can’t hear anyone else’s though.”

“You can’t hear our spirit’s voices?”

Rose questioned curiously and intrigued wondering at how Ichigo’s powers functioned; they certainly didn’t fit into anything anyone had seen before. As Love’s low chuckles filled the air Rose realised he had jumped on the bandwagon of talking about Ichigo’s ability and their own spirits.

“Yeah, they’re all silent. When I was fighting Lisa today I could see her spirit’s mouth open, but no words came out, that I could hear. I think it’s because the bond is so damaged. It’s like how I couldn’t meet Zangetsu till I was ready to meet him. Or how some Shinigami don’t hear their spirit’s name till their ready.”

Something sombre filled the air at the statement, at the mention of their bonds, or lack thereof, with their zanpaktou spirits. Rose could see Lisa hovering in the doorway to the kitchen there was something glacial to her features, but the ice was transparent for all of its structure. Rose could feel the same emotions in his own chest, the same way he saw them reflected in Love’s eyes. It was the thing they didn’t talk about for all their shared kinship.

“It’s not like we can talk to them either.”

Lisa added with bitterness as she entered the living room, Hachi following slowly behind her with something pensive on the large man’s features. Ichigo screwed up his face again in an easy tell that was admittedly somewhat cute and asked, “Well why not?”

“It’s not that simple Ichi. Every time we enter our inner worlds they try ta fight us, and they’re screaming or they’re dead silent. There’s no time for a heart to heart in that environment. We’re constantly fighting to stay in control.”

Shinji responded with fake cheeriness something brittle beneath the words. Rose glanced away from Ichigo and stared at his own hands, ones that had once wielded his zanpaktou with confidence. Their bond had been strong, a perfect harmony that Rose could always hear faintly in the background. And when they fought together? They had been unstoppable.

Aizen had taken that from them. Now there was always uncertainty, a fear of feeling too much for what it might unleash. When Rose fought he was able to use his zanpaktou, but it had become a tool, not a partner. Perhaps not even a tool. It hurt, like the thorns on a rose except there was no beauty on the surface only their separation. Rose shuddered a breath and cleared his head, blinked away the pain burning his eyes.

Love’s hand, larger than his own, covered Rose’s and the man’s reaitsu hummed in reassurance even as Rose knew his partner’s thoughts were likely the same. But they had a chance now. There was a hope rekindling that it could become better. If that hope rested on the shoulders of a child? Well, it was all they had.

“That’s what I was talking about last time. You can’t fight your zanpaktou spirits, they’re a part of you. It doesn’t matter if they’re the darkest parts of you they’re still you. So, fighting them doesn’t make sense. Zangetsu has gold eyes and is a bit Hollow-like but he hasn’t tried to assert his dominance or whatever.”

Ichigo said in the empty silence of the living room that felt as if it had been filled with old ghosts. Everyone looked up at Ichigo’s words and Rose tried to process the many layers compacted into four sentences. It wasn’t as simple as Ichigo made it. Was it? They had tried to talk to their spirits for years, nothing worked and then they were forced to fight for their lives, there was no time to find balance again. They had tried.

Then there was the bit about Ichigo’s zanpaktou spirit. Gold-eyes? Hollow-like nature? They all had heard Kisuke’s story (because the man liked to talk) about how Masaki and Isshin had met. So, they had known there had been a likelihood of their child having a Hollow nature. But if Ichigo’s zanpaktou spirit was already part Hollow then that changed things.

“It’s not that simple, we’re fighting for our lives!”

Kensei protested even as Love cut in, “Hold up what does your spirit look like Ichigo?”

“I think it is quite different for you Ichigo as you grew up with your spirit. This happened to us suddenly.”

Hachi added throwing another line of conversation into the mess forming in the living room. Ichigo was frowning, a look of consternation on his features as his eyes flickered to them and to random spaces near them. Conversation erupted like a volcano spewing words everywhere.

Shinji took one look at the still chaotic situation and called out, “One at a time y’all. Ichigo isn’t heading home till six so we got time to converse and sort it out. Besides, he’ll be back next week.”

Everyone settled in their seats and Rose could feel Love’s curiosity even as the larger man bumped his shoulder with Rose’s. At that moment, Hiyori appeared flying through the air with an outstretched foot and a battle cry. Ichigo tilted to the side and let the small blond crash into the opposite wall. That started the chaos once more as Shinji yelled at Hiyori, and Hiyori yelled back like two screeching cats.

Rose sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before returning his attention to the sheets on the table. Order would reinstate itself soon enough, and in any case, it was as Shinji said Ichigo wasn’t leaving for a little while and there was always the next session. Though a few minutes later, Rose only had to look once at Lisa frowning before she stood up and yelled, “Enough,” and returned to her manga.

“I think I’ve figured it out a bit.”

Ichigo stated after a few minutes and just like that silence filled the room, pregnant and looming waiting on a hairsbreadth. The kid rubbed a hand on the back of his head and began, “The thing is a Hollow is all about instinct, they don’t think of the world in shades of grey, just their hunger. Now I doubt you all feel the need to begin eating souls,” a few awkward chuckles followed the joke before Ichigo began again.

“But trying to talk to them won’t work. And I don’t think winning in battle will either. Because then you’re telling your spirit that you’re dominant, that you rule and control them, it isn’t a partnership. And you’re challenging them to keep trying, to wait for a moment of weakness so they can unseat you. So, I think you guys need to accept it? Accept that you have a Hollow nature, that you aren’t fully Shinigami anymore. I think… I don’t know how you can accomplish that because each soul is different, each spirit and person is different. But I think once you make that first step you open the line of communication. There will still be hurt. You ignored or shut away your other half for over fifty years. But I think that’s where I come in.”

Ichigo finished staring at all of them with eyes that burned, searing its way right into yheir soul and forced them to see, to understand. Rose released his grip on the now crinkled sheet in his hand and let out a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding. All around him the other Vizard sat in shocked silence staring at this kid who had figured it out when centuries-old adults hadn’t been able to.

Silence lingered heavy with thought and Ichigo sat in the middle of it receiving the occasional astonished or thoughtful gazes. And Ichigo? He talked to his zanpaktou spirit in a quiet whisper letting everyone stew and simmer. Love shifted, and Rose almost sighed in relief because Love was good at breaking anyone out of a funk, anyone but himself that is. But that was what Rose was there for.

“Yo Ichigo you never did elaborate on your spirit.”

Love said to the silence of the room gathering everyone’s attention. Ichigo tilted his head for a moment, his eyes flickering upwards, probably towards Zangetsu (and wasn’t that an interesting name) and back towards them.

“Well, it’s like I said. Zangetsu has yellow eyes like a Hollow, and he runs on instinct too, but he’s sort of a bit more blended I guess? Because Zangetsu isn’t bone white like a Hollow, and he doesn’t dress in white either. But he also doesn’t wear black and he’s not perfectly like a zanpaktou spirit. It would be cool if I could materialize him to show you guys, but that’s impossible I think.”

Ichigo rambled, like a kid talking about their favourite superhero. To be fair, Rose supposed that the child’s spirit was likely close to a brother figure to Ichigo. Especially considering what he knew of Isshin Shiba’s parenting skills. He had never personally known the man while in Soul Society, but the Shiba’s reputation preceded them well enough. Even if Ichigo had more of his mother in him.

“Ichigo have I told ya this before? You’re one weird kid.”

Shinji stated dramatically with a laugh and like that the remaining tenseness evaporated. Rose knew they would all be thinking of this conversation in the next few days, that they would try to make contact with their spirits. He could only wonder.

Ichigo pouted at Shinji and shook his head even as Mashiro nodded fervently in agreement. Ichigo turned betrayed eyes on the woman who bounced over and ruffled his hair. Lisa adjusted the glasses on her nose even as she smiled, and Love’s booming laughter echoed inside Rose’s chest as he stared at his family, and at the centre of it Ichigo.

X

Benihime materialized across from Ichigo, where Kisuke had been sitting, in a graceful whisper of pale smoke, her smouldering eyes above the lip of the fan were trained on Ichigo with a gaze that felt predatory by nature. Ichigo, who was still a touch out of breath from the training session with Kisuke, inclined his head in a low bow of respect to the zanpaktou spirit. The painted fan in Benihime’s hand snapped shut and Ichigo glimpsed the curve of a smile.

Tessai’s spirit fazed through the wall, he glanced once at Ichigo as if to be assured of his safety before continuing. Tessai’s spirit was solemn and quiet, not in a forced manner like the Vizard, but in a reflection of the deep nature of Tessai’s soul. Yoruichi, on the other hand, had a spirit that was playful in the same way a cat played with a mouse.

Taking a sip of the tea Kisuke had brought before he had darted from the room with an insistent beeping accompanying his hurried motions, Ichigo stared at Benihime. The zanpaktou spirit studied Ichigo in kind for a few moments before she opened her lips and spoke, “You are making progress in your fights against Kisuke. Do not be disheartened by your failure impudent brat.”

Ichigo hid his expression by tucking his head to his chest, a smile appearing at the nickname spoken with fondness in a voice like unsheathed steel. When Ichigo had regained control of his emotions (because Benihime wore her own emotions like a mask and expected the same as her disciple) he intoned softly, “Thank you Benihime.”

The elegant spirit huffed but the motion was belayed by her amusement. Ichigo took another sip of his tea and recalled the multiple lessons Benihime had attempted to drill into his skull; how to be observant of his surroundings, manipulate the feelings and motives of others, and Ichigo supposed above all, how to survive in the climate the denizens of the Gotei 13 thrived in. Ichigo didn’t know how to take some of the lessons to heart, much less to understand them, but Benihime believed he was a lifetime investment so there was no getting out of them even if he desired such.

“Don’t make that expression when you think Ichigo, it is an obvious tell. Besides, in battle, you will not have the time to plan and contemplate your opponent’s life story. And all things in life are a battle so you cannot let the world know that you’re disobeying logic regardless.”

Benihime stated in that cutting tone, the words like a riddle that Ichigo had to unravel for a few moments before he nodded in understanding. At least Zangetsu didn’t speak in riddles, he didn’t lie. Oh, the spirit would avoid the truth if possible (and he could be sly) but he had never lied to Ichigo.

The spirit shook her head, the long tresses of ebony hair flowing with the movement like the ripple of silk; she was probably thinking he was a hopeless case again. The woman studied Ichigo, her eyes peering beneath the material as if she could see all the threads that made up his soul tying him to Kisuke, the Vizard, his family, his powers. Finally, Benihime sighed and stated, “Be careful Ichigo. You’ve done well in limiting the effect of your reaitsu on those around you. But in the end, peace does not come kindly to you.”

With those final cryptic parting words, the spirit dematerialized in a collection of smoke that left the faint scent of jasmine in the air. A low chuckle sounded next to Ichigo’s ear as Zangetsu appeared, his larger form curled around Ichigo as if to protect him from the outside world.

“She sure is prim and haughty. Exactly like the nobles of Soul Society.”

The spirit said the words rasping about the air with little venom. For all the appearance of animosity between the two, Benihime and Zangetsu actually got along well, Ichigo was sure it was their shared penchant for bloodlust. He wondered what his spirit meant about the nobles of Soul Society, Kisuke had briefly explained the hierarchy of how the afterlife worked but Soul Society was a topic the man spoke little of in depth.

Then again, Ichigo suspected there were a lot of things he wasn’t given the detail for.

With a creak of unoiled hinges, because that wasn’t something Shinigami apparently understood, Kisuke entered the room. There was a cloud of smoke hovering about him, his face was a bit singed and smudged but overall the scientist looked fine. Kisuke smiled when he saw Ichigo and shuffled over to settle carefully opposite him at the table. Zangetsu scoffed at the man’s appearance but remained curled around Ichigo a constant source of warmth.

“Not too bored?”

Kisuke questioned as he busied himself in fixing a cup of tea with copious amounts of sugar and something in a vial he produced from his sleeve. Ichigo nodded and replied, “Benihime and I talked. What happened?”

Kisuke blushed, which meant the explosion was an accident and that Yoruichi would probably yell at him about it later. With a bit of a shrug, the man replied, “I’ve been working on an invention to destroy a powerful and dangerous object. But nothing I have tried has worked. I have a few ideas, but at the moment it is safe for now.”

“Safe from Aizen?”

Ichigo questioned with a tilt of his head even as he wondered what the powerful object could be. It was likely, that if it was as powerful as Kisuke had described (because the man hardly held his punches) that is had been used before, or it had a specific design purpose. Kisuke scowled and shook his head tilting the brim of his hat over his eyes to shade them from view he commented wryly, “You really are too smart Ichigo. I’m going to have to tell Benihime to stop teaching you before your father cries that I’ve corrupted you.”

“Personally, I think mom would be really proud of me. And you’re avoiding the subject Kisuke.”

Ichigo responded the words coming out easily even as he mentally reviewed them. Would his mom be proud of who he was? All she had wanted for him in life, like any mother, was for Ichigo to be happy. And he was happy, the ability to protect those around him, no matter what skills he utilized provided him with purpose, with a way to keep moving forward.

Kisuke sighed and scrubbed a hand over his features before tangling it in his hair the man replied, “Yes. I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you this now, you’re nine for Kami’s sake. But in the end ignorance is dangerous, and you would probably pry the information out of Benihime or one of the Vizard eventually.

The Hogyoku is a stone I created while I was Captain of the Twelfth division, the research division, while I was in Soul Society. It was a project of mine, I wanted to see if we could surpass the barrier between Hollow and Shinigami. How that could even work was purely theoretical at the time. I have the feeling that the stone wanted to be created, for a nefarious purpose, I can’t say. But it soon came into existence.

I can’t say when Aizen turned traitor, maybe he had been like that from the beginning, maybe a vendetta he carried for a past crime. His past is as murky as most of Soul Society. He did well in the academy, nothing on the level of some of the prodigies we’ve seen before, but he was talented. He appeared kind and bland, I suppose that should have flagged some warning, but regardless he quickly moved through the ranks.

You know Shinji, he’s a suspicious paranoid bastard at heart. He never trusted Aizen, and so following the ancient proverb he made the man his lieutenant. I’m not sure when exactly Aizen learned of the Hogyoku, but he attempted to create his own, and he succeeded in part. He used the Hogyoku to experiment on the souls of Rungokai, turning some into Hollows, and taking parts of other souls to fuel his Hogyoku.

The Vizard were one of his experiments and one of his plots to damage and diminish the strength of Soul Society. He has two Shinigami working with him who turned traitor. Kaname Tousen, blind and with a sense of justice that would make anyone else wince and Gin Ichimaru a fox-faced man whose motives are always questionable.

Anyways, back to the point, Aizen wants to combine the two Hogyoku, his and mine, so that he could create powerful Espada, and as I suspect wage war on Soul Society. At the moment, he still is trusted in Soul Society, so we have to bide our time and protect it the best we can.”

Kisuke finished with an exhale of breath before he tipped back the tea in his hands chugging the still hot contents. Ichigo winced even as he tried to process the boatload of information his uncle had delivered. It was all because of one man. The thought scared Ichigo in a distant sort of way because he knew, someway or another he would be involved in Soul Society’s affairs. He was working with the Vizard and he was Kisuke’s godson, there was little doubt.

Zangetsu’s warmth wrapped around Ichigo settling the racing thoughts and forcing him to take a breath and calm down analyze the information as Benihime would. After a minute, where the silence allowed him to process it Ichigo glanced at Kisuke who was staring at him with shaded eyes and something sombre.

“I didn’t want to involve you Ichigo. You shouldn’t have to handle Aizen, the weight of such should be forced onto the spines of the captains of Soul Society. But I doubt that will pass so easily. Even my own plans fall apart sometimes.”

Kisuke said the silhouette of Benihime curled around the Shinigami. Ichigo nodded in acceptance he knew that. He understood that if Aizen was successful in destroying the Gotei 13 then the balance of the mortal world would cease to exist, and his family would be in danger. Ichigo didn’t want to fight and a part of him hoped that nothing occurred for another twenty years even if it delayed the vengeance of those he was close to. But Ichigo couldn’t control fate.

“Enough of this depressing topic of conversation. Why don’t I explain to you in depth how the Gotei 13’s different divisions are oriented?”

Kisuke suggested, something desperate in his tone. Ichigo studied his mentor for a moment, studied the hidden words telling Ichigo that Kisuke would do his best to prepare Ichigo for the future so that he wouldn’t walk in blind, and nodded.

X

Kisuke’s head jerked up from his desk as a dull ringing sound penetrated the state of bleary exhaustion the scientist had been immersed in after spending what many would consider too many hours awake. The part of him that was awake acknowledged that the sound was not blaring in warning, those were generally louder for instances such as this. With a bit of lightbulb moment, Kisuke recalled that he did indeed have a cell phone (on a certain man’s insistence) and that it was at his desk.

Lifting his head off of said desk, Kisuke peered through a mop of blond hair and searched through the endless papers crowding his desk in something of a hurry as the ringing continued. After a moment, Kisuke made a triumphant noise and plucked up the mortal device, flipped it open, spared a minute to squint at the call identification (why would Isshin be calling him at… five in the morning?) and answered the call.

“Oh, thank Kami, seriously Kisuke I was about to end the call and try again.”

Isshin’s gravelly voice sounded over the telephone and Kisuke quirked a brow wondering at his friend’s motives. Scrubbing a hand over his features Kisuke adjusted the phone and responded, “Hello to you as well Isshin. What is this all about?”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line followed by an inhale then Isshin’s voice came through, “Is… is Ichigo sleeping over at the Shōten tonight?”

Worry was evident in the father’s voice and for a moment stone cold dread dropped into the pit of his stomach as Kisuke frowned and said, “No. Are you sure he isn’t home?”

“No, he was there this evening and I checked on him before I went to bed. There’s no sign of struggle, nothing missing, it’s like his bed wasn’t even touched.”

Isshin said something, panic making its way into his voice accompanying the sense of dread that was creeping closer. Kisuke grimaced but didn’t say anything as silence lingered on the line.

“You think he took him, don’t you?”

Isshin half accused half asked his tone gone cold and scared. Kisuke curled his hands into a fist, some part of his mind was saying it wasn’t real wasn’t possible. Another part, the one that thought like Aizen knew it was more than likely.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! This chapter was super interesting to write, and we are beginning to reach the climax of the story. Just a brief mention, regarding the Vizard; they all make forays into the mortal world, and some even have jobs such as Rose and Love. It’s just a quick explanation in case anyone was wondering. What do you all think has happened to Ichigo? Reviews/comments are always appreciated, till next time!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, we are back with another chapter. I’m not apologizing for the cliff-hanger last week, but I hope no one was agonizing over it. Everything will be more fleshed out in this chapter. Thanks to everyone for the positive feedback on the last chapter. Read on!
> 
>  
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo

X

Ichigo blinked and stared at the too white ceiling above him. The white was almost unnatural, it reminded him of a Vizard mask or the way his mom’s skin had looked in the rain that night. Ichigo blinked and stared as he tried to recall where he was because his ceiling had never been this white, and it was missing the dent from the time his dad had collided with the ceiling after a sneak attack gone wrong; he didn’t understand why his dad had started doing that.

Inhaling softly, Ichigo pushed aside his internal panic and tried to rationalize. Maybe they were at a hotel? His uncle’s house, the one they never talked to? Or Kisuke had shoved him into a room in the Shōten. Pulling slightly on his reaitsu Ichigo reached for Zangetsu’s presence. The spirit materialized by Ichigo’s feet, just in the corner of his vision, the pale grey cloth draped around his shoulders stark against the white of the walls.

Zangetsu was frowning, or rather the expression was more akin to a feral animal bearing its teeth. The expression burned in Ichigo’s chest sparking the dull embers of panic into a full blaze. Because if his spirit was sporting that expression then something was wrong. Ichigo resisted the urge to surge forward and explore his surroundings, he needed to remain still and take stock of the situation. There could be cameras, someone watching him, people behind a one-way mirror, anything. Inhaling and exhaling slowly as if breathing in sleep Ichigo calmed the panic that was surging through his veins and tried to think of what Benihime might say in the situation he was in. She would probably go and search their surroundings because as far as they knew, only Ichigo could see her.

He couldn’t do that himself but Zangetsu could. The spirit drifted forward, listening to his silent thoughts so that Ichigo could see familiar features curled in a blazing frown even as Zangetsu nodded his ascent and whispered, “Be cautious Ichigo, there are multiple powerful beings here. I’ll return quickly.”

A warm hand drifted through Ichigo’s hair for a moment before Zangetsu dematerialized fading away and leaving the silence of the room, all-encompassing and drowning. Ichigo closed his eyes and ignored the way his eyes burned, he needed to find out where he was, and who had kidnapped him.

It had to be someone with a reason; everyone had a reason. He was specifically chosen, taken from his home in a professional manner; nothing clumsy like chloroform in an alleyway. There were a few options that Ichigo knew were possible and others that could be plausible depending on the situation. At the forefront of his mind were Aizen or Soul Society.

Soul Society was a possibility for the sole fact that, from the history Kisuke had written and forced him to read as homework, Ichigo had identified a continuous pattern where the Gotei 13 did not like those who were different and powerful. Not to mention there was the possibility of the Research division discovering his existence, or the Onmitsukidō discovering his father. Both were unlikely, Kisuke was careful and paranoid to a fault.

The other very likely possibility was Aizen, the megalomaniac knew of his existence as evidenced by the modified Hollow sent after him. Moreover, taking Ichigo would be a morale blow to Kisuke and the Vizard. It would also provide Aizen with the chance to study his powers; which the possibility of him knowing about was high. If it was Aizen, then the terror brewing in Ichigo’s chest, shaking its way to his fingers, would soon become overwhelming because Ichigo was nine and Aizen was a genius on par with Kisuke

But before that Ichigo needed to discover where he was. If he was in Soul Society, then Ichigo would have to be aware of enemies on all fronts but he would have the possibility of allies in Kūkaku Shiba, a friend of Yoruichi. If he was in the Mortal World, then the possibilities were endless and Ichigo, a nine-year-old kid, would have to find a way to contact Kisuke. If he was in Hueco Mundo; reportedly Aizen’s base of operation according to his plans for the Espada, then… then Ichigo would have to find a place to wait it out.

Reaching out with his reaitsu, Ichigo searched for presences in his surroundings. He knew there were ways to hide reaitsu, Kisuke had shown him the strange black cloak that made it feel like he wasn’t there. But if this building served as a place of operation to whoever had kidnapped him then they were likely comfortable and wouldn’t hide their reaitsu.

There were five presences Ichigo could sense in a two-kilometre radius; all that he could sense without thinning his reaitsu out and risking a lack of technique. Three of the reaitsu presences he could sense were Shinigami and the other two were distinctively Hollow; it didn’t bode well for Ichigo’s suspicions.

Deciding he had deduced all he could while laying down Ichigo inhaled slowly and sat up. The room was overbearingly white, in a way that almost physically hurt Ichigo’s eyes, it was also mostly empty the only noticeable thing in the room was the bed he was laying on (more of a cot really) and a table. There was also a window, metal bars blocking the small square and letting sparse beams of a softer light fall through them.

There was a door and Ichigo was almost certain that it was locked but he would attempt it anyway once Zangetsu returned. In the meantime, Ichigo rose to his feet standing on the bed and peered out of the small window.

A sea of sand spread out beneath the window, pale almost white it seemed to go on endlessly stretching beyond the horizon uninterrupted except for a stray barren shrub. The sky was dark like the night in the Mortal World but there was something to it that felt different; Ichigo belatedly realised there were no stars just passing shadows that may have been clouds. Hueco Mundo, Ichigo was in Hueco Mundo the world of Hollows.

Or at least from what Kisuke had said of the word through his reports, it was Hueco Mundo. Ichigo slid down from the window and stared at the wall for a moment. He focused on his breathing and tried not to hyperventilate as he realised that it was almost certainly Aizen who had kidnapped Ichigo. He knew as dread settled in his chest and overwhelmed his breathing that his rescue would be far more difficult then it could be otherwise.

The door to the room he was in slid open, it was silent and automatic and all that signified such was a hiss of compressed air. Ichigo tensed before he forced himself to relax and turn around. Present yourself as strong and in control. That was what Benihime always lectured in any situation, she would then proceed to correct his posture till it fit her gruelling standards.

There was something not human standing in the doorway, but it was humanoid in figure if slightly too skeletal and pale. By process of elimination, Ichigo concluded that the being in front of him was an Arrancar, an Espada, likely created by Aizen.

It stepped into the room, a tray held on its hand as blank green eyes fell on Ichigo. There was nothing aggressive to its reaitsu but all the same, there was something empty that left an unsettling feeling clinging to Ichigo as his breath calmed slightly. They stared at each other in silence, something curious there as the being wondered at the boy and the boy wondered at the being. Finally, the Espada stepped forward and placed the tray on the table, it contained something that appeared to be food though Ichigo wouldn’t believe it to actually be such.

The Espada turned as if to exit and Ichigo jerked at the movement, some part of him didn’t want to be left alone in the room even if he knew that Zangetsu would return and that this Hollow was his enemy. The being continued to walk forward and Ichigo acted on impulse and said, “Wait, what is your name?”

They stilled at the question and turned to face Ichigo. With a curious tilt of the Espada’s head, the movement highlighting the horn attached to their mask, the being stared at him with something sparking behind their eyes. Ichigo waited in silence and wondered if the Espada would answer him.

“Ulquiorra.”

They intoned, their voice was like the sound of water running into a drain. Ulquiorra stared at Ichigo for a moment longer, his features twisted minutely before he exited, the automatic door sliding shut behind him with a hiss. Ichigo slumped with an exhale still cautious that he was being watched, or rather almost certain considering that once he had moved visibly someone had appeared.

Scrubbing a hand over his features in the same way he had seen Kisuke do Ichigo wondered if he would ever return home. If he would see his sisters again. Would he be forced to stay in this cold washed out place forever? How would he survive? Was there any food? There would be Hollows everywhere, all of them starving.

Ichigo could be smart, he was powerful but all of that wouldn’t help him in this situation. Not when the forces against him were stacked. He just wanted his family, the Vizard, Tessai, Kisuke, Yoruichi, even his dad to just come and save him. Because… Ichigo was nine and he wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared for this.

Swallowing back the sobs building in his throat, Ichigo tucked his face into his knees and blinked away the tears burning behind his eyelids. He wondered if he would ever feel the warmth of his sisters’ hugs, taste Yuzu’s budding culinary skills, see Kisuke smile proudly at him. A part of Ichigo knew they wouldn’t leave him here in Hueco Mundo. But the thought persisted, and he wondered if Kisuke would be able to find a way to create a Garganta or if the Vizard would connect enough with their spirits to figure it out.

Arms curled around Ichigo, full of warmth and radiating reaitsu that was inherently familiar and comfortable. Ichigo glanced up through the tears in his eyes to see Zangetsu’s face staring at his own. A hand stroked gently down Ichigo’s back in a way that reminded him of his mother and Ichigo curled into his zanpaktou spirit taking comfort in the presence. He wasn’t alone. Ichigo had his powers, he had his spirits. And if he could escape there was a chance he could return to the Mortal World, there was a chance he could be fine.

“That’s the spirit Ichigo. Keep moving forward, never hesitate, don’t let your fears stop you, if you hesitate you won’t survive.”

Zangetsu whispered, the words filled Ichigo’s chest with warmth and stopped the panicked thoughts that had flooded his mind. Breathing out slowly Ichigo pulled away from his spirit and wiped away the tears clinging to his cheeks. He needed to focus he couldn’t afford another breakdown not when he was dealing with someone of Aizen’s calibre, someone who even now had their claws sunk into the structure of Soul Society.

“What did you find?”

Ichigo questioned, in his mind, he couldn’t risk anything being detected. Zangetsu frowned his expression serious as his fingers curled into Ichigo’s shirt. The spirit sighed and stated, “I’ve found an exit to this place, which is like a maze at best. However, if Aizen isn’t distracted it will be hard to escape. But I can guide you. From there if we can hide your reaitsu Hueco Mundo’s endlessness should help to hide you until Kisuke appears.”

The words sent dread and hope pounding through his veins in equal measure as Ichigo listened to his zanpaktou spirit’s words. They needed a distraction, something that would distract the residents of whatever this building was. Though there was a risk in waiting for a distraction, it allowed time for Aizen to enact whatever plot he had planned, for them to meet face to face.

Ichigo knew that if they worked together they might still be able to escape but they both knew it would be dangerous; perhaps unnecessarily so. There were still Hollows waiting in the sands and once there it would be equally difficult for Kisuke to find him. But he couldn’t hesitate.

A loud boom echoed and shuddered through Ichigo’s room, rattling dust from the ceiling and continuing to reverberate through the silence of Hueco Mundo. Ichigo and Zangetsu shared a look, both weren’t keen to question their fortune. For a moment, Ichigo contemplated that it was his family here to rescue him but the likelihood of mounting a force and finding a way into Hueco Mundo in what was presumably at least a day was unlikely.

Zangetsu stood and Ichigo followed his spirit to stride across the floor on soundless feet till they were before the seam of wall Ulquiorra had entered through. The door was locked but Ichigo could detect a Kido that appeared complex but had a key flaw in it’s locking mechanism. Channelling the Kido Tessai had shown Ichigo when he had asked about the locks on Kisuke’s lab, Ichigo broke open the seal with a small almost unnoticeable burst of reaitsu.

The door hissed open unto a hallway, empty and glaringly white like the rest of the world. Ichigo peered around the edges of the doorway, searching with both reaitsu and his eyes for anything that would risk their escape plan. There was nothing just the tail end of something white and a bit of blue, not fabric, disappearing around the corner. Ichigo traded a glance with Zangetsu who was grim and serious in a way that reminded him of the funeral.

The zanpaktou spirit brushed a hand through Ichigo’s hair before he stepped into the hallway and turned left without hesitation. Ichigo followed after the spirit moving on soundless feet with his reaitsu tucked close to him. They would escape, and they would return home.

X

The door to the central room of the Urahara Shōten slid open with a bang, not with intended force but for the situation it was understandable. The sound was hardly noticeable above the infernal din of multiple voices yelling; at each other and just pure yelling. Kisuke with his forehead planted on the table didn’t glance up, he already knew who it was, everyone else was accounted for. Had been since three in the morning, it was twelve in the afternoon now.

Not that Kisuke knew that with a definite clarity, he felt bone exhausted in a way that wasn’t just set into his body but was driving a wedge through his thoughts. Dammit! He needed to be alert, needed to think of something, anything. Because. Because Ichigo was somewhere, lost, kidnapped, Kami knew they had suspicions, and anything could be happening to him.

He had failed Masaki. When she had died, Kisuke had promised to take care of Ichigo, promised to make sure the kid grew up properly. But now Ichigo was gone and he had failed. Failed.

What could he have done differently? How could he have stopped this from happening? Why? He could, should have had more surveillance on the kid, could have warned Ichigo of Aizen better, could have, should have… done anything to stop this.

That wasn’t true though, and he knew it if he had become that overprotective the kid would have stagnated. Paranoia was only as good as it allowed you to live. But that didn’t change the fact that Ichigo was gone, stolen from his bed in the middle of the night (that was the timeframe they had) like a changeling from western mythology. It stung and burned, clawed at the protective instincts that had instilled themselves in Kisuke; the others felt it too and were just as miserable.

A thunk sounded vaguely in front of Kisuke’s face and the scientist peered through his mop of tangled hair to peer at a mug, the scent of coffee, blacker than obsidian, was in front of him. Kisuke’s eyes dragged slowly up from the mug to Tessai who was sitting opposite him, arms crossed over his chest and a frown curling his lips. The normally stoic man, Kisuke’s best friend, someone like a godparent to Ichigo, was equally distraught by the situation. But as ever where Kisuke was a mess Tessai somehow managed to stay composed.

An arm curled around Kisuke’s shoulder along with a warm body pressed to his side. Glancing slowly to the side, Kisuke glimpsed the bright gold of Yoruichi’s eyes, furious and burning in equal measure; they were challenging all the same but this time there was more on the line. Kisuke resisted the urge to let his head thunk on the table once more and dwell in a sorrowful well of self-pity. Instead, with a breath of courage, Kisuke picked up the mug and tipped back the burning liquid.

It burned and tasted like tar, but it was enough of an awakening for Kisuke to sip at the rest of it as his eyes surveyed the room. Kensei was pacing in a small circle, every few seconds he paused and took a deep breath wherein, Kisuke could see the beginning of a mask fade away. Mashiro sat in a seat close by staring at the ceiling with a worried frown and a lack of cheer that in of itself was worrying. Lisa was reading, or rather attempting the motion before she would pause and scrub a hand over her face flaking away white scales.

Love and Rose were settled near the doors, limbs overlapping, they had been in the basement with Hachi for a half-hour before they returned. Hachi himself was settled to the left of Tessai and now that Kisuke was rehabilitated the two were chatting. Hiyori and Shinji were yelling at each other, the others had been yelling but they must have stopped at some point, though for what reason Kisuke could only name Yoruichi. He could see it in Shinji’s features the man was desperate, that and furious like the rest of them barely holding onto composure for Ichigo’s sake alone.

Isshin stood in front of the door. The father wasn’t looking at anyone, just his own hands, but Kisuke couldn’t imagine what it was like for the man. To have none of your powers when you needed them the most. To be at risk of not only losing your wife but also your son. To the same man. Kisuke could read the devastation in Isshin’s shoulders and it was mirrored in his own.

They needed to start planning, needed to settle everything. When everyone had first arrived, they had tried but it had only devolved into useless debates. The longer they waited and argued and moped then the more time Ichigo was in Aizen’s hands. Spreading his reaitsu out in a sudden flush that slammed the walls and rattled the glasses Kisuke let the silence fall around him as he sipped at the horrible tasting coffee and let the silence brew.

“Enough,” Kisuke started before he moved to his feet and to a large blackboard that he often used for inventions, and the other’s groceries. Picking up a piece of chalk Kisuke turned to everyone and continued, “We cannot waste any more time. Every moment we spend arguing and debating Ichigo’s life he could be in danger and we are sitting here! We need to establish a location, who abducted him, and a plan of operation.”

Silence followed the statement and Kisuke could sense a feeling of shame and guilt in the room before it slowly transformed into determination. Nodding to himself as he sipped at the Kami blessed coffee Kisuke turned to Yoruichi and asked, “Yoruichi have your contacts in Soul Society confirmed anything?”

The Shihōin princess nodded once sharp and serious reminiscent of the fearsome military commander she had once been. Brushing a hand through her hair she replied, “Confirmed Ichigo is not in Soul Society. No one has any indication that such a person exists.”

“Love, Rose did you find anything when you looked into the other supernatural residents of Karakura town?”

Kisuke questioned turning his attention to the two Vizard, who were the best at diplomacy, of course, next to Kisuke. Rose and Love traded a glance before Rose responded, “Nothing, they’ve all heard nothing of the kid and our external contacts hadn’t heard anything either.”

Kisuke nodded and ran a hand over his stubble before he pulled the cannibalized satellite out of his pocket and flicked through the screens. After a minute he glanced up at his audience and added, “According to what we know of the plausible kidnapper, known locations within the Mortal World, and my satellite surveillance the likelihood of Ichigo being in the Mortal World is twenty-five percent.”

“Twenty-five percent that’s still a whole fricking lot Kisuke!”

Shinji shouted back his voice echoing in a rasp that was all too obvious of Shinji’s emotional state. At the same time, Hachi commented mildly, “That means he is almost certainly in Hueco Mundo. Of which we have no notable entrance point.”

The comment sent the room into a flurry of motion once more as Hiyori rose to her feet and snapped out insults, Mashiro frowned at a wall with a fierce expression that didn’t fit her face, Shinji alternated between glaring at Kisuke and yelling at Hiyori. Kisuke sighed but turned to face the chalkboard and began to place what they knew and what their objectives and obstacles were. Isshin stood as still as a statue; his blank expression was not enough to hide the fury and helplessness radiating from him.

After ten minutes, when the noise had settled somewhat Kisuke turned around and once more snapped his reaitsu out. Everyone paused and turned to face Kisuke, who smiled in a deceptively calm manner even as he channelled Unohana-taicho incredibly well. Clapping his hands together and forcing a semblance of joy into the motion Kisuke continued, “Well now that I have everyone’s attention once more let’s discuss our plan of attack.”

“Someone should stay in the mortal world just in case Ichigo is here.”

Love suggested after a minute of silence where everyone traded prompting glances. Kisuke beamed at Love even though the gesture struck at him wrong, he could almost feel Benihime echoing the emotion.

“Excellent point. It is perfect then that Hachi and Yoruichi have volunteered to stay behind and monitor both Soul Society and the Mortal World.”

Kisuke added and let the attention drift to the two, away from him. Yoruichi nodded only once in acknowledgement her eyes connecting with Kisuke in a silent promise. Many forgot in the face of Yoruichi’s charms that the Onmitsukidō were masters at gathering information. There was a reason Kisuke was as sharp as he was, both literally and metaphorically, and it wasn’t because of his time at the academy.

“Why is Hachi staying?”

Hiyori questioned, somewhat petulantly, with a frown as she crossed her arms and glared at Kisuke. Muttering a prayer under his breath, as one should when dealing with the midget of terror, Kisuke smiled banally and responded, “We don’t know how your Hollow sides will react to Hueco Mundo it is safer to have a kido master who is not also a Vizard no?”

A few of them glared at him for the insinuation, however true it was, while others turned their attention to Hachi who nodded only once in acceptance; for Ichigo’s safety, they couldn’t afford any error.

“So, the question is how’re getting to Hueco Mundo.”

Shinji stated in a drawl gathering the attention of the room before any more infighting could break out. Kisuke resisted the urge to flash Shinji a smile because the man was angry and needed someone or something to blame; something tangible so Kisuke would suit.

“I have an invention that may be fitted to create a path to Hueco Mundo. But it is a prototype at best. It will take me at least a full day of work to see if it is even possible to make it work, at best. In the moderately okay case it could take minimum a week, worse case maximum a month.”

Kisuke admitted flipping out the fan in front of his features so that he wouldn’t have to feel their disappointment. He wished he could finish it in a day, but the possibility was incredibly unlikely. After all, if he stayed up for too long to work on it, it would only increase the chance of critical failures being overlooked. They stared at him in silence and Kisuke waited, he wasn’t sure for exactly what. Alternate suggestions? Encouragement? Doubt?

“A Hollow can open a Garganta. If we can connect with our spirits, we could learn how to. And if we all try then the chance of one of us achieving it is higher. If we try for Ichigo we can’t fail!”

Mashiro said, her tone was bright but there was a note of steel beneath it that was almost unfamiliar. The Vizard stared at her, their expressions were something between shock and doubt as if they couldn’t believe her words. Kisuke personally thought it was one of the best-case scenarios. If they could, it placed them a step closer to communicating with their spirits and would provide easy transportation into Hueco Mundo.

“It is what Ichigo would a have wanted of us most assuredly.”

Lisa added adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose as cold eyes challenged the Vizard. Kisuke could see Shinji almost physically wavering as he stared at the Vizard with an expression Kisuke had seen on the man before he entered battle.

“There is nothing else that will force us to make contact with our spirits such as this. We must do this for Ichigo.”

Rose added sagely the words echoing with truth because in the end, Ichigo only wanted to help people and if they managed it well, Kisuke could imagine the way Ichigo would beam at them. Shinji stepped forward gathering the attention of the room, he turned to Kisuke and stated, “Work on that damn invention and don’t worry about us,” He turned to the Vizard staring at each of them in turn and continued, “We’re going to do this if we have to break our bones because we are not leaving Ichigo behind.”

Reaitsu seemed to pulse about the room and Kisuke nodded once already running over the plans in his mind. If they could do it, they would. If not? Kisuke would just need to be prepared. Glancing across the room Kisuke caught sight of Isshin staring at them all with something lost on his features. As the Vizard gathered around Shinji, Kisuke slipped towards the former Captain.

“Do you think we’ll get him back?”

Isshin questioned soft and vulnerable in a way one rarely saw of the enigmatic man. Kisuke placed a hand on Isshin’s shoulder and forced the man to look into his eyes, to see the conviction burning there with the same determination Ichigo had shown them in everything.

“We will find him. Ichigo will return home. In the meantime, you need to be at home with the twins, keep them safe and fed. Ichigo wouldn’t want to return home to find his house in ruins.”

Isshin choked out a laugh and wiped at his eyes superstitiously for a moment before with a rough bark of laughter he responded, “Yeah. Kami knows Ryūken’s already trying to corrupt them at the moment.” Isshin paused suddenly serious and with his eyes burning like Engetsu he added, “Find my son Kisuke.”

Kisuke nodded. They wouldn’t let Ichigo down as Soul Society had for them. They would find him even if they had to fight through all of Aizen’s forces. Ichigo was family and you didn’t turn your back on family.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that it lived up to expectations. Was anyone surprised by Ulquiorra’s appearance? Does anyone have any guesses as to what will happen next? Who will Ichigo meet? I always love hearing readers’ opinions. Reviews/comments are always appreciated, till next time!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, we are here with chapter 8. I hope you all enjoy read on!
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.

X

It was cold, the kind of cold that was biting and cut through skin and bone to chill you to the core cold. Zangetsu’s warmth cloaked around him could only do so much. There was nothing to stop the fierce gales of wind that swept over the plains of Hueco Mundo, the way it kicked sand into the air in great sweeps that were temporarily blinding. The sand beneath his feet constantly shifted making every step difficult, as if he was walking through a viscous liquid.

Briefly, Ichigo had contemplated solidifying reaitsu beneath his feet so that he could walk above the sand but that was dangerous, it could attract the attention of nearby Hollows. Already, Ichigo had been halted by a few Hollows, all seeking out his reaitsu. They had been lower level Hollows but that didn’t dissuade the possibility of an Adjuchas or even a Vasto Lorde.

It didn’t help that everything looked the same, sometimes he felt as if he had been walking in circles and that he had passed the same barren shrub twice. There were no guiding stars in the sky, and the moon didn’t change position; it just grinned on and on at the world below it. When Ichigo had escaped with Zangetsu he had turned once to see Aizen’s base of operations, it had been huge and white like a pockmark on the otherwise barren sand, rising far above Ichigo and spreading out for miles. Now there was nothing.

He had understood then why they had twisted and turned through so many passages in the large building. Zangetsu pausing every few seconds to glance around a corner or stare at a crossroads. They’d turned back a few times when they stumbled upon a dead end or something significantly not an exit. But they had exited and now Ichigo was walking over the rolling sand as the cold ripped through his clothes and the world around him remained unceasingly the same.

Some part of Ichigo wanted to keep glancing behind himself, to make sure that Aizen wasn’t cresting the last hill with an army of Hollows surrounding the megalomaniac. There was a constant fear that was burrowing its way through his veins, heightening his awareness and making the shadows more than they were.

Ichigo paused, his breath hitched, and he sunk to his knees, curled his arms around his chest and wished it was over. He had no idea where he was going, what he was going to do, how Kisuke was going to find him. What if Aizen found him? What would the man do to Ichigo? He just wanted to go home.

No. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t sit on the sand feeling sorry for himself, not when he wasn’t safe, when there was still a risk of Aizen finding him. Even if he felt so incredibly lost. Ichigo breathed slowly and wiped away the tears that had started to fall. He would return home, Ichigo had to believe that. In the meantime, he had to keep moving, he couldn’t hesitate.

Struggling to his feet, Ichigo tugged his pajama shirt closer to his chest to protect against the chill and gazed at the horizon. He wondered if there were any ruins in Hueco Mundo, other than Aizen’s base because the world felt so startlingly empty in a way that seemed to defy the existence of Soul Society and the Mortal World. There was no infrastructure just the sand so, he wondered if there was more to Hueco Mundo than he could see.

Zangetsu materialized with a small swirl of sand, he stared at Ichigo with eyes that blazed and mourned and were filled with something Ichigo couldn’t quite understand. The spirit tugged off the dark grey haori he sometimes wore and settled it on Ichigo’s shoulders, it dragged on the ground but was weightless and it was filled with an incredible warmth. The spirit didn’t say anything but Ichigo could understand what he wasn’t saying.

Spreading his reaitsu out a bit Ichigo started walking again, over the sands past the same dreary dead shrubs, under the watchful eyes of the moon. The silence of Hueco Mundo was unnerving, Ichigo hadn’t noticed it before when his thoughts had been screaming about his head, but now in that overwhelming silence, it seemed to echo in his thoughts. It was almost peaceful. Almost.

He wondered how everyone was coping at home. What his dad had said to the twins. Probably something about him going to camp, in the middle of the school year. Chad was probably worried about him, and he wouldn’t have anyone to watch his back when the local yakuza decided to be intolerant. But he wasn’t worried, Chad could take of himself in a fight. Kisuke was probably holed up in his laboratory trying to find a way into Hueco Mundo while also simultaneously inventing something to track Ichigo. Benihime was probably scowling at her wielder and huffing moodily; as the spirit was wont to do.

The Vizard were probably all huddled in the warehouse. Maybe Love and Rose were playing music or Lisa had commandeered the stereo again. Mashiro was probably practising acrobatics while Kensei watched, secretly terrified for her, but looking impassive. Hachi was probably drinking with Tessai while the two discussed how to create a kido that would create water or something. Shinji and Hiyori were probably fighting again, that or Shinji was brooding impressively. Or maybe they were all training.

Ichigo’s thoughts petered off as he became aware of something on the periphery of where his reaitsu was spread out. Frowning, Ichigo glanced around himself and focused on the presence. It wasn’t moving towards him, it was static. In the distance, amid the pale sand, Ichigo could sort of make out something. It was indistinct and blurry due to the distance but there was something; it wasn’t a mirage.

Materializing Zangetsu’s sealed blade, Ichigo tugged the spirit’s haori closer to his body and moved forward over the sands. He was wary, it could be a trap or a Hollow waiting for its next meal. But it was in the direction he was heading in and he needed to be certain. Ichigo knew it was impulsive and that Benihime would probably berate him later but Ichigo had already decided so, he continued walking.

As Ichigo drew closer, the something sharpened into a heavy reaitsu presence and all around him, the bodies of Hollows began to stack up. Ichigo paused to look at one of the Hollows, it was sprawled on the ground reaitsu fading with no wounds visible. Ichigo frowned, his brow crinkling as he considered the cause. Kisuke had taught him that for a Hollow to gain power it had to consume souls so, sometimes they cannibalized each other. But these Hollows had no wounds that would suggest that. Moreover, if a Shinigami had killed them then they would have dissipated and moved onto Soul Society.

This was something else. Ichigo tensed before he physically forced himself to react. He needed to be careful whoever or whatever, was in front of him was dangerous and unknown. Ichigo tried to recall what Benihime would advise in a situation like this. She would probably council either waiting or trying some reconnaissance. Ichigo wasn’t good at controlling his reaitsu unfortunately and he couldn’t wait. He needed to move forward.

Feeling Zangetsu’s presence surrounding him Ichigo walked forward watching with wide eyes as all around him the Hollows stacked up in an imitation of the landfills Ichigo had seen pictures of. Finally, Ichigo reached what was likely the centre of the whole paradox. There was something cloaked in a thick tan fabric in the centre of a circle, piled high around the cloaked figure were the corpses of Hollows. Ichigo could feel the presence clearly now, it pushed on his body like gravity and threatened to drown him if he didn’t surround himself with reaitsu. The reaitsu was distinctively Hollow, there was the same acridness that he had encountered before but there was also something wild and powerful.

Grasping Zangetsu’s hilt Ichigo walked forward, his feet on the sand were impossibly loud as he moved closer. He noticed that the cloaked Hollow had its back turned to him, so he diverted to one side to walk around to face it. The Hollow didn’t react, didn’t stir but for the biting wind that prowled and whistled over the sand.

Ichigo stopped when he was in front of the Hollow and sat down, his reaitsu coiled tightly around him. He waited. After what felt like an eternity, the Hollow shifted, the fabric moving with it, and glanced at him.

It looked human. That was the first thought to spring into Ichigo’s mind as he stared into blue eyes and observed the brown hair tangled around the man’s features, the fragment of a Hollow mask attached to his jaw. The Arrancar, because it had to be one, stared back in shock observing Ichigo with incredulity.

“A human?”

The Hollow questioned in a voice like a growl. The fabric shifted, and another face appeared, she looked young, like Yuzu or Karin, with blond hair and a Hollow mask on her head, she stared at Ichigo with obvious excitement. For a moment Ichigo contemplated the likeliness of conjoined twins before dismissing the notion for the more logical observation; that they were two Hollows. The older Hollow shook his head and continued, “Not a human but not…”

He trailed off and continued to stare at Ichigo who stared in return. They didn’t feel aggressive and there was something intelligent in their gazes, something so entirely human that the thought hurt.

“Who are you?”

The blond Hollow asked with a tilt of her head even as the older one glanced at her with something like a warning; it reminded him of the twins. Ichigo settled Zangetsu on the ground beside him and replied, “I’m Ichigo Kurosaki. And you?”

“Lilynette and this is Starrk.”

The girl Hollow responded gesturing to her companion, with a bit of bite in her voice, who was still studying Ichigo. Starrk yawned and blinked lazily for a moment at Ichigo, it wasn’t enough to disarm him of the sharpness he had seen moments before.

“What are you doing in Hueco Mundo Ichigo?” Starrk questioned with a raised brow before he continued, “And I suppose the potent question is how are you not being destroyed by our reaitsu?”

Ichigo frowned and stared at his hands for a moment, in the half-light of Hueco Mundo they looked too pale and strange as if they weren’t his own. Feeling Zangetsu’s reaitsu surrounding him encouraging him to follow his instincts Ichigo glanced up and responded, “I was kidnapped by… by a Shinigami,” He paused but then looked up with a grin and continued earnestly, “I have a lot of reaitsu as well, so I just tucked it around myself like a cloak. It must be hard having so much reaitsu that no one else can get close to you.”

Starrk blanched at Ichigo’s words and stared at him as if a man seeing water for the first time. Lilynette smiled back at Ichigo and stretched forward hesitantly as if she wanted to see if he was real. Starrk planted a hand on her head and tousled Lilynette’s head till she was pouting up at the man. Starrk turned his attention to Ichigo and with something rumbling in his chest he asked, “A Shinigami kidnapped you?”

The faux brightness Ichigo had tugged over his features fell away and he nodded drawing his knees up to his chest he replied quietly, “Yeah, he wants to destroy Soul Society but he’s a megalomaniac, so I guess he just wants to destroy things or dominate the world. I think it’s because of my powers.”

Starrk and Lilynette stared at Ichigo for a moment before the blond darted from the shelter of her cloak and wrapped her arms around Ichigo. He startled back and almost tipped over at the sudden motion before he hesitantly wrapped his arms around Lilynette. A low chuckle broke the silence of Hueco Mundo and Ichigo glanced up from the safe halo of Lilynette’s arms to see Starrk gazing at the two of them with something kind and warm to his eyes. It was a sudden change to the wariness emanating from the Arrancar.

After a minute Lilynette pulled back and stared into Ichigo’s eyes in a tender voice she questioned, “Is anyone coming to look for you Ichigo?”

The question brought back the silence though it was tense like a wire stretched between the three of them. Ichigo frowned and curled his hands into fists as he responded, “I know they’re going to try. But Hueco Mundo is a big place and I don’t want to be found by the Shinigami.”

Starrk shuffled closer to the two and ruffled both Ichigo and Lilynette’s hair with something consoling to the sharpness of his features. Pulling back from the hug Ichigo tugged a smile over his features and grinned at the two Arrancar.

“So, are you two related?”

Lilynette pouted and shot a glare at Starrk for a moment before she nodded. Starrk stared at Ichigo, likely seeing the diversion for what it was, his eyes flicking between the orange-haired kid and Lilynette before he questioned, “Do you know what this Shinigami wants and why he is in Hueco Mundo?”

The question forced Ichigo’s smile to flicker and die as his hand tightened around Zangetsu’s hilt. Ichigo nodded and couldn’t hold it against the Hollow for digging for information, it could possibly affect the two in the future. Drawing on Zangetsu’s presence Ichigo replied, “His name is Aizen. He wants to use this powerful device to make Arrancar more powerful and make an army that will serve him. At least that’s what I know of his plan.”

“He’s set up in Los Noches, isn’t he?”

Starrk questioned his features grim as he stared past the bodies surrounding them. Ichigo tilted his head in confusion at the unfamiliar name and a ghost of a smile that showed too many teeth stretched across his features as he added, “It’s a big white building, mostly ruins but the wind has carried rumours and on occasion we see a Hollow that lives long enough to talk for a few minutes.”

Ichigo nodded in answer processing the information he had been given, he couldn’t imagine having one person to talk to for months on end. Starrk frowned once more before the expression slipped away from his features to be replaced with warmth. Lilynette curled up against Starrk’s side and stared at Ichigo for a moment before she suggested, “You could stay with us Ichigo? At least till your family comes.”

He considered the proposition. Starrk and Lilynette weren’t aggressive, they weren’t hungry, and their own power prevented any Hollows from trying to attack. But if Ichigo remained with them he put the two Arrancar at risk of Aizen finding them. The likelihood of Aizen discovering the two in the future was already highly probable but he didn’t want to hasten it. Zangetsu materialized behind Ichigo, his arms wrapped over his shoulder as he said in a quiet whisper by Ichigo’s ear.

“You can trust them Ichigo, you need to rest. But you are correct; it is not safe to remain here.”

Ichigo glanced into Starrk’s eyes with an apology because he could see the isolation surrounding the two Arrancar, the bodies surrounding them. He didn’t understand that sort of loneliness, but he could understand the desperation when you wanted something. Needed something with all your soul. Starrk nodded in understanding but allowed Ichigo to speak nonetheless.

“I can’t stay here too long it's not safe, not with Aizen after me. But I can still stay for a bit.”

He replied slowly the words heavy on his tongue. Lilynette frowned the expression making her look younger but traded a glance with Starrk and nodded; he wondered if the two were connected in some way like how he and Zangetsu were connected. Starrk nodded and ruffled a hand through Ichigo’s hair, in that voice like gravel he responded, “It’s okay Ichigo we’ll meet again that much is obvious. But when you leave, go west there might be something to aid you out there.”

Ichigo nodded his thanks and grinned at the Arrancar as he ruffled Ichigo’s hair. The Hollow paused for a second before he returned the grin something tender in his gaze, Lilynette beside the man jostled his shoulder and waved to get Ichigo’s attention.

“Tell us about the Mortal World Ichigo!”

She demanded planting her hands on her hips with a petulant expression. Starrk chuckled and leaned back on the sand with an interested expression. Ichigo smiled and wondered where to start. Eventually, he began, “Well in the mortal world we have buildings that touch the skies…”

X

Shinji twisted in mid-air spinning away from the blade that crackled with reaitsu. It had appeared from behind in a left swipe so, accordingly, Shinji had moved in the same direction and watched as the directions were mirrored in the plains of his inner world. Sakande’s reaitsu slammed into the glass-like floor, spreading cracks and fissures that wouldn’t seal over for days, even as the wrathful spirit flew forward.

Shinji swung his katana down, the circular part of the weapon spinning through his fingers as the two blades clashed in opposing directions. Her eyes were gold, they burned and accused as they stared into Shinji’s eyes. White filled his vision as the glass-like material flew into the air reflecting the light around them and temporarily blinding him.

“Please.”

He said once quietly as he struggled against Sakande’s blade, it always felt in his inner world as if she held greater strength. This was her domain in truth and here the laws of gravity which he was well acquainted with could easily be challenged. The spirit didn’t react to his quiet plea, her eyes stared unseeingly past him and all Shinji could hear was the screaming in his mind, like nails on a chalkboard, or caterwauling cats.

Shinji stepped forward and appeared a few steps away, he watched as the linen-like fabric in shades of silver like polished metals floated ethereally around Sakande’s head and avoided the mask carved to her features. It felt too much like looking at a stranger, like staring at someone you had once known; and perhaps it was.

“Please for Ichigo we need to cooperate.”

Shinji begged, his voice quiet and cracking, something he would never admit to if asked, something that they both knew he prided himself on never doing. Her eyes, burning, burning their way through him swerved towards Shinji and in a voice that rasped and broke terribly she replied, “No.”

Then the world was tilting in horrible vertigo, shifting and multiplying around Shinji as she flew forward, her blade poised to strike. Shinji closed his eyes for a moment knowing that time, like any sense of perception within his inner world, was an eschewed concept. Flicking his weapon in a whirl Shinji heard the shriek of metal clashing together and opened his eyes. Suddenly, the two blades were crashing against one another with all the force of an incoming tide, down was up and left was right, and Shinji could only lose himself so much in the battle.

He hissed when she scored a long gash on his chest but refused to take the split second opening he saw. This wasn’t a fight for dominance and even then, some part of Shinji could hardly bring himself to willfully harm Sakande; even if she had no hesitations herself.

All around him in the mirrored surface his own form stared back at him with gold eyes, cold smiles, and taunting words. Shinji felt helpless and on the brink. They needed to make contact with their spirits, Ichigo’s life was at stake and here he was trapped fighting himself. This was the seventh time in three days Shinji had submerged himself in his conscious.

His moment of inattention costed Shinji as Sakande’s blade speared through his arm, blood spraying through the air to decorate the mirrors and leave dark trails. Shinji panted and stared at his zanpaktou spirit. She looked down at him and her blade hovered below or above her head ready to strike, ready to kill.

With a burst of reaitsu, Shinji disappeared and didn’t wonder why she let him go. There were places to hide in his inner world, for all that everything seemed reflective, there were points where one could sink into the spaces between, the shadows, and rising from the simple plains were pyramids, simple mastabas, but also ones like in Egypt, or some shaped like temples. They were all empty and the light within his inner world felt almost artificial at times.

Before Aizen, before Hollowfication, his world had been different, oh, the key elements were there but before there had been doors and polished metals like braziers that gleamed and crackled, orbs that floated with memories, dust on glass pillars, and crystal butterflies that winged through emotions. That had all been destroyed. It was empty and clinical and harsh, and the light that shone was that like vengeance; blinding and hurtful.

Shinji slid down the wall of the interior of a pyramid, his reflection shattering around him in hues of bronze and too much white. He placed his head in his hands, so he didn’t have to look. How were they supposed to do this? How was he? Ichigo had said the first step was to accept it. Hadn’t they done that already? They were bitter and sought vengeance, but they were alive, they had their powers, they accepted their situation. Were they supposed to accept the monster that inhabited their soul? A representation of all the darkness inside; they were centuries old, the kind of darkness they housed was not one to contemplate.

The kid’s words played over and over again in Shinji’s mind shuffling around and around as he tried to make sense of it. Acceptance. Accept what? His Hollow hid the darkest part of himself, the spirit he fought. He had tried, they all had. He had begged her, pleaded with her to see that they needed their powers to save Ichigo. But Sakande didn’t respond, didn’t care, she seemed to stare past him no matter what he did unless she was trying to kill him.

Steps echoed through the pyramid, his only warning, the sound sent a bolt of fear and dread to course down his throat like bitter liquor. Shinji shuddered but gripped the hilt of his weapon, for a moment he paused and ran his fingers over the blade and remembered Soul Society, a drop of blood welled on his finger and he knew he couldn’t waste any more time as she appeared.

Sakande was all feline grace, before the mask, her features had been slightly akin to a Siamese cat, and her bones had always seemed unnatural thin as if she was a two-dimensional figure. Now that lethal grace slammed Shinji against a wall as their blades crashed and cracked against one another. Around them the walls of the pyramid shook, even fit together perfectly, glass shards filled the air and spilt on the floor around them. Shinji darted into a large room which held nothing but steps on the exterior of the walls, vaguely he thought he could identify a mosaic of something; perhaps his own reflection.

His spirit crashed into him with a crackle of reaitsu and Shinji moved to the left as the blade swung right, he slipped under it and returned a jab directed towards the ground. The elbow missed her jaw as Sakande whirled to the right, away from Shinji’s blade which had swung in the opposite direction.

Why? He wondered as Sakande stepped into the air to avoid a low sweep, the swathes of her kimono floating up by the tips of her mask. Why couldn’t he accept her? Was accepting her defeat? The line of questioning was paused as he whirled to the side only to fall into a blade as it sliced his cheek; he needed to pay attention constantly calculating his every move.

Sakande pushed forward, dark reaitsu pulsing around her as the glass-like substance around them creaked and groaned ominously. Shinji whirled over an overhead strike and let his own blade snap to the left intersecting the blade cutting towards the same direction. Suddenly, Sakande reversed her blade and flung it towards the ceiling where it sunk into the floor with a mighty crack shattering it.

Shinji fell into darkness, glass sparkling and leaving a thousand tiny cuts as he fell reaching up or down towards the ceiling. What was acceptance? Why did they hate Hollows? Weren’t they part of the cycle. He wondered then suddenly if he was blaming her for Aizen’s plot. It wasn’t their fault they were like this. And yet? Was his vengeance, his anger fueling their own twisted corruption?

His back collided with the floor with a crack that was pain and burning, his mind and his body screaming in one as the glass shattered into fine dust like a powdering of snow around him. Shinji stumbled to his feet and glanced at his reflection, his weight balanced on the hoop of his weapon he watched as Sakande surged from the glass. The long strands of her hair warped around her head and the pale mask as if she was under water. There were tears in the gold of her eyes as she flew forward.

Shinji understood. Or at least he thought he did. The blade stabbed through his heart and forced him into the wall of mirrors, and through them. The multiple images of himself shattered as he grasped the blade, blood slicking his hands, and stared into Sakande’s eyes.

The mask over her features began to crack, flaking away like the fine pieces of mirror reflecting everything two-fold. He reached up vaguely noticing the crimson on his fingers to trail fingers over her cold cheek, over the tears and the shattered porcelain there, the crown on her brow. His eyes burned, and he leaned his head forward against her chest and sobbed apologies over and over. It was his fault.

Shinji had locked her away, placed all the blame on her. His anger and hate and vengeance had locked them into a vicious cycle where they fed on the other’s emotions and alienation. He had stopped seeing her as anything but a Hollow and a tool. He had known but not understood that she was his darkness as much as the same guiding light. He had been afraid, and she had suffered trapped in the transformation of their soul, the dichotomy of who they had been and who they had become.

Shinji understood and almost wished he didn’t as the sobs wracked and forced their way through his chest. A hand stroked through his hair and a humming echoed in the silence as glass shattered and cracked around them.

“We will save him.”

Sakande whispered and Shinji knew the words were his own and Sakande’s because how had he forgotten. It wasn’t taught at the academy it was discovered. She was him and he her, they were the same soul. They would not leave Ichigo behind, neither reality nor the laws of it could govern them. Sakande’s laughter vicious and rumbling as pale gold drifted by her ears echoed and warmth blazed in his inner world and beneath her hands.

X

Aizen stared at the monitor and frowned, displeasure curling through his system in an icy draft. The boy was gone. There was nothing in the room, no sign of a forced exit, and the recording of Ulquiorra entering revealed nothing except the Espada’s own curiosity towards the human; unexpected but interesting. The footage after the event had ‘mysteriously’ disappeared and once again Aizen cursed everything from the Mortal World to Soul Society but primarily Kisuke Urahara.

If he had both halves of the Hogyoku he wouldn’t have to deal with the unstable Yammy, who had destroyed half of the south wing in a rampage. Although he was powerful, he was also an arrogant brute with no understanding of control or hierarchy. A calculated risk. Aizen had only been too glad to shuffle his responsibility onto Kaname who had divined it some exercise of justice or the like. Still, the damage to Los Noches, while a powerful display, was a minor offence for its true causality. A distraction which had allowed the boy to escape.

The Arrancar already under his service had searched the wide expanse of Los Noches’ many hallways and empty rooms. Surely the child wouldn’t be able to navigate the unknown and maze-like structure, Aizen had thought. But regardless of the architectural complexity of the building the child had escaped, nothing had been found and there was no reaitsu presence of the child left.

The anger curled through his gut in an icy wave once more and Aizen huffed a breath and adjusted the glasses that remained perched on the bridge of his nose. He waited patiently for the day he could reveal himself to Soul Society and claim the Hogyoku, and in consequence the power he deserved. But for now, he needed to find the child before Urahara could regain the prodigy whose potential to destroy him was incalculable.

“Aizen-san?”

Gin questioned with a sly quirk of his lips and a faux pleasant expression. Aizen regarded the Shinigami for a moment before his attention flickered to the screen, he returned his attention to the man who gave his loyalty and questioned, “You didn’t see the child leave? Nor did anyone else?”

“Na nothing. S’like a ghost Aizen-san.”

Gin replied with a shrug of nonchalance even as piercing blue eyes revealed themselves for a moment of honesty or suspicion; Aizen was often pleased by the other Shinigami’s masks. Nodding Aizen recalibrated and adjusted his plans. They needed to find the child, Hueco Mundo was large but he doubted on feet the child would be able to go far. Not to mention the lack of control on the child’s large reaitsu reserves would leave a trail.

The doors slid open with a hiss of compressed air and Kaname entered and bowed to Aizen. Studying his two subordinates who returned his gaze evenly, Aizen commanded, “Gather all our forces, barring Yammy, and prepare to hunt for the child. Gin cover for Kaname, I will handle my own appearance in Soul Society.”

They nodded and departed in a swirl of white before splitting in opposite directions. Aizen watched them leave for a moment before his gaze returned to the screen monitors and he watched the footage of the child, he noticed his eyes resting on thin air and hummed. Kyoka Suigetsu, often silent, whispered of the unseen and Aizen concluded that the child likely had a spirit accompanying him.

It was of little recourse when the child was recaptured Aizen would be able to determine everything he needed. If that so happened to have the chance of destroying Kisuke Urahara then that was only a pleasant side-effect. After all, Aizen was nothing if not patient.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Did everyone like Ichigo’s meeting with Starrk and Lilynette? I hope Shinji’s inner world wasn’t too confusing, one just needs to recall his Shikai and it should make a touch of sense (as much of possible of course). While I was writing it I was thinking of the music video for This is Gospel. Reviews/comments are always appreciated, till next time!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, we are here with chapter 9 we’re almost at ten, and the end of this part, if you can believe it. After I finish this part there will be another fic more closely related to the beginning of canon events. Thanks to everyone who left a review of the last chapter! I hope you all enjoy, read on!
> 
>  
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo

X

The warmth of Lilynette’s arms around Ichigo lingered even as he looked at his surroundings with a desolate expression. Once more, there was nothing for miles but barren trees and endless sand. Ichigo sighed and wondered if Starrk had been wrong when he had said there was something to the west; perhaps the winds had lied, they seemed the type. Though in honesty Ichigo hadn’t known what to expect. Ruins? A fragment of civilization? More Arrancar?

He knew it wasn’t a trap, that much was clear after the short time he had spent with the two Arrancar. Lilynette for all her blustering and snapping at Starrk genuinely cared for the older Hollow, and Starrk cared for her in the same manner; they were family. Ichigo couldn’t see the man who had ruffled Ichigo’s hair with such a warm expression plotting anything like that, especially if it required even a modicum of effort, Starrk was a lazy bastard at heart.

The reassurance did nothing to solve Ichigo’s current situation. Aizen was coming and Ichigo was out in the open with nothing visible for miles around. Shivering Ichigo tugged Zangetsu’s haori closer to his body even as his stomach growled; the first time it did that he had thought it was a Hollow. It was already dangerous with Hollows prowling the sands but Ichigo was hungry, tired, and Aizen had a fledgeling army at his back. The odds weren’t in his favour.

Reaitsu whirled lightly around Ichigo’s feet and a ghost of a smile slipped across his features at Zangetsu’s silent encouragement. He needed to keep moving forward, the farther he was from Aizen the more time he had to plan, and the longer it would take to return to Hueco Mundo. Ichigo kept walking.

Sometime later with a sigh, Ichigo plopped down beside one of the barren trees and stared at the horizon. He doubted he had ever walked so much in his life and his legs were well aware of the fact. It didn’t help that the sand was beginning to shift before his eyes and he thought at some points he could hear voices. There was no way to tell the time in Hueco Mundo; the moon was unchanging, but Ichigo could guess how long he had been in the sands and it was well over three hours.

Laying on his back Ichigo stared at the dark skies above, the passing clouds, and the branches of the tree hanging over his head. It had a strange texture, nothing like the bark Ichigo had seen on the trees in the Mortal World. It was pale almost grey and overlapped each other like scales, though the texture looked more like a rock. Tilting his head to glimpse a better view of the tree Ichigo tentatively reached out and rested a finger on the tree. It was rough but not overly sharp and Ichigo wondered if there were any roots beneath the soil of Hueco Mundo. If there were roots, then it was likely there was some sort of liquid.

Sitting up with a sort of desperation, Ichigo wrapped a hand around the root. For a single moment, he contemplated whether it was a good idea to tug on the tree. Ichigo’s gaze surveyed his surroundings, pale sand rolled and spread like an ocean with nothing in sight. Ichigo pulled on the tree root.

There was a sound like the crunch of gravel beneath one’s shoes and Ichigo had only a moment to look around in alarm as the sand in a wide uneven circle began to fall into a sinkhole that was slowly stretching towards him. Then the sand beneath Ichigo fell out and he was falling through the air and something was screaming in terror; belatedly he realized it was his own voice as a world underneath the sands plateaued beneath Ichigo and sand fell like snow around him.

The ground was fast approaching as Ichigo narrowly avoided snagging Zangetsu’s haori on one of the large pillar-like trees. Blind-panic flushed his system as he contemplated his imminent death when he collided with the floor far below him. He would die. Alone in the sands of Hueco Mundo and they would never recover his body. They would never know what happened to him. Would he even go to Soul Society? A Hollow would probably eat him before that.

“Ichigo.”

A familiar voice called as the ground careened ever closer and Ichigo’s mind snapped out of its shock. He closed his eyes and tried to take a breath amidst the wind rushing through his hair and biting at his skin. Gathering his reaitsu close to his body, Ichigo solidified it beneath his hands and feet and pushed against the air willing himself to stop moving at the will of gravity.

Slowly, Ichigo came to a halt hovering just a few feet above the ground feeling his heart hammering unchained in his chest and the blood rushing in his ears. Exhaling Ichigo dropped to the ground and rested in the sand for a few moments and tried not to think about his recent near-death experience; he was too young for this.

A howl echoed through the air and Ichigo’s body tensed as his reaitsu spread out searching for nearby Hollows. Ichigo shouldered his way to his feet with a rushed push as he identified the reaitsu presences of over a hundred Menos and various Arrancar. There were so many in the surrounding area that it felt like the sea, it was hard to distinguish anything among the volume of it.

Materializing Zangetsu’s blade Ichigo observed his surroundings, focusing on that instead of his rising panic; there was sand blanketing the ground, large spires that reached towards the ceiling where small holes cast beams of light below. In the distance, Ichigo could see a Menos, tall as a building with its pale mask harsh in the low-light of the underground area, and if Ichigo squinted he thought he could see more of them in the distance.

A scrape of claws was the only warning Ichigo had as he rolled out of the way, instincts blaring in his mind. It was an Adjuchas, large and hulking with a body the colour of blood and a mask that draped across its features like rubber. Its large claws sent sand flying through the air as acrid yellow eyes centred on Ichigo. Scratching the back of his head Ichigo stared at the Hollow for a moment in resignation, fortune certainly didn’t favour him Ichigo mused as he tightened his grasp on Zangetsu’s blade, adrenaline pumping through his veins and gasping through his breath.

The Hollow bellowed, sand shaking off of the strange pillars, and charged Ichigo. Feeling Zangetsu materialize around him, Ichigo used shunpo to dart into the air and appear behind the Hollow. With Zangetsu’s hands covering Ichigo’s own they brought the blade down through the Hollow’s mask. It crumpled to dust with a final roar and Ichigo attempted to calm his breathing as he stood there amongst the sand in an underground cavern in Hueco Mundo.

A dart embedded itself in the tree beside Ichigo’s head and he whirled around to face another Hollow, this one was smaller almost akin to a frog in shape. Ichigo frowned and darted out of the way as another dart flew through the air. Just as he landed a tail whipped out and Ichigo was forced to jump and use reaitsu to step into the air and shunpo away. There was another Hollow, this one was large and muscular with skin that looked infected.

A dart appeared and Ichigo shot forward and raised Zangetsu, feeling reaitsu coiling about the blade as he cleaved the frog Hollow in half and whirled around to halt the large Hollow’s tail. Ichigo gasped as something slammed into him from behind and knocked him forward into one of the pillars. It felt as if the air was trapped in his lungs and Ichigo only barely managed to hold onto Zangetsu’s blade as he blinked through blurred vision and pain.

Two Hollows, one of which had the tail, were standing over him. Their masks seemed harsh and cruel as they talked, the words barely reaching through the fog in Ichigo’s brain. He couldn’t stay still. They would eat him, and he would be dead. Ichigo would never get to see his family again. He couldn’t die here.

Reaitsu began to snap around Ichigo, it was dark almost black in the dimness of the underground cavern. The Hollows turned to face the child and the one with the tail lumbered forward intent on eating the brat.

A blade sliced cleanly through the Hollow’s mask, and then preceded to slice through the mask of the other Hollow. The two crumpled to dust and Ichigo blinked away the reaitsu roaring through his veins and stared up at his saviour. They had a Hollow mask over their features and for second Ichigo wondered if they had intended to cannibalize the Hollows before he noticed the shihakusho and the katana.

The Shinigami crouched in front of Ichigo and tipped the mask covering their features away. It was a man, he had cold almost noble features, but they were tender where they stared at Ichigo aching with something that was eerily familiar to Starrk.

“Are you okay? What are you doing here? You’re a child you shouldn’t be in the Menos forest or even Hueco Mundo for that matter.”

The Shinigami said in a rush, as he rested a hand on Ichigo’s brow and surveyed their surroundings with a quick gaze. Ichigo blinked at the man for a moment, it felt as if there was still a fog settling over his thoughts and his body felt sluggish and slow. The Shinigami squinted at Ichigo as if noticing his state and rubbed a hand over his brow.

“We need to get under cover, can you walk?”

Ichigo tried to struggle to his feet but his chest still burned, and his legs felt weak, he had the presence of mind to dematerialize Zangetsu’s blade but little else. The Shinigami stared at him for a moment before he sighed, mumbled a creative curse under his breath, and turned around gesturing for Ichigo to climb onto his back.

Suspicion lingered in the back of Ichigo’s mind as he wondered if it was a trap set by Aizen, something to lure him into a false sense of security. But the reaitsu of the man felt real and it was all far too convoluted for such a thing. Stumbling forward Ichigo clambered onto the man’s back and ignored how nice it felt to be in contact with a human being again.

The man adjusted Ichigo’s grip on his shoulders and glanced over them at Ichigo before he shook his head and took off in a burst of shunpo. The tall spires blurred past them in a sea of white as Zangetsu’s presence wrapped around him like a blanket lulling him into something like a trance. He only vaguely noticed when they entered a cave on a high shelf and was plopped in front of a fire while the Shinigami moved around.

Ichigo blinked a few times as his conscious surfaced from the sea it had been drifting in. There was a fire crackling with warmth in front of him, bathing the walls of the cave in light, dancing over Hollow masks and rough-hewn furniture. The Shinigami who had rescued him was seated on the opposite side of the fire, filling away at something in his hands. As if sensing Ichigo’s gaze the man glanced up and something like a smile, but not quite one, settled on the man’s features.

“How are you?”

He started, the light of the fire cast shadows on the sharp bridge of his nose and the hollows of his eyes. Ichigo stared at the man in silence for a moment as his mind caught up with everything and finally he responded, “Hungry.”

The man laughed, the sound was quiet but sincere as he rose to his feet and shuffled towards one corner and returned with a bowl which he passed to Ichigo. Inside was a broth with chunks of meat that Ichigo didn’t want to identify. He dipped his head in thanks and sipped at the stew, it was bland but helped to abate the hunger gnawing at his stomach.

“So, what’s a kid like you doing in Hueco Mundo?” the Shinigami questioned before he made a soft exclamation and sheepishly continued, “I should probably introduce myself first, I guess I’m really out of practice with social necessities. My name is Ashido Kanō, the former Fourth seat of the Eighth division.”

“I’m Ichigo Kurosaki. How I got here is kind of a long story.”

He replied slightly reassured that the Shinigami in front of him actually acted in a human manner. Ashido blinked at Ichigo’s answer his gaze swerving towards the entrance of the cave before his attention returned and he stated, “We’ve got time.”

“I’ll tell you. But you have to tell me your story.”

Ichigo demanded after a minute of debate his gaze, locked onto the Shinigami, was blazing with determination. Ashido shook his head his eyes dark and responded, “It’s not a good story kid.”

“Well do you think a story about how a nine-year-old got kidnapped is going to be funny?”

Ichigo retorted petulantly as he finished the stew and stared at Ashido. He wanted to know about this Shinigami who was alone in Hueco Mundo, who had saved him. The Shinigami quirked a brow at his reply and with a resigned sigh nodded and stated, “Alright it’s a deal brat. Go ahead, I asked first.”

He pouted at the logic but began detailing how his dad was a Shinigami and his mom was human, so he was powerful, Ashido thankfully only raised a brow at that part, he talked about what he knew of Aizen and how the man was using the Hogyoku to change Arrancar and subjugate them. Ashido frowned at the information and stared out of his cave for a long moment before he gestured for Ichigo to continue. He spoke of waking up in Los Noches, of meeting Ulquiorra, of escaping, he didn’t mention Starrk and Lilynette for their safety, and how he had stumbled on the Menos Forest. Ichigo trailed off after speaking of encountering the Hollows and let his gaze drift from the fire to Ashido.

The Shinigami’s face was curved into a frown that the light of the fire made the shadows found there seem harsh. Silence lingered in the cave broken only by the crackle and snap of shifting wood within the fire. Finally, Ashido’s gaze landed on Ichigo and with a self-deprecating smile he began. He talked of the small mission squad, the hopelessness of their situation, losing his comrades, continuing to fight for them even now.

“It’s really honourable of you to keep fighting like that Ashido-san.”

Ichigo commented quietly as he wondered how the Shinigami in front of him could do what he did every day. Alone. At that thought, Ichigo squinted and wondered where the man’s zanpaktou spirit was. He hadn’t seen a flicker of it since he entered the cave.

Ashido shifted at Ichigo’s words, the mask on his shoulder glowed for a moment and Ichigo made a soft sound of acknowledgement. Maybe they were used to hiding with no other spirits to associate with. Ashido’s gaze was soft and vulnerable where it studied him as he replied, “Thank you Ichigo. You have been very brave in escaping from Aizen-san. Though what you’ve told me doesn’t bode well for Soul Society or Hueco Mundo.”

Ichigo beamed at the compliment and Ashido dropped whatever was in his hands at the expression. The comment about Aizen forgotten for the moment. Laughter filled the small space of the cave and through tears that were both grieved and joyful the man gasped out, “I don’t think I’ve had someone smile at me like that for a while Ichigo thank you.”

The comment made Ichigo want to frown because he couldn’t imagine that sort of life, it made him want to take Ashido back to the Mortal World and show him to Yuzu. Instead, he flashed the man another smile and watched the way Ashido’s eyes crinkled when he smiled back.

“You’re probably tired, aren’t you?”

Ichigo nodded in reply to the question and watched as the Shinigami stood up and gathered the bowls and washed them out with sand. From the short distance between the two Ashido’s voice drifted over, “Do you think your family will find you? It’s likely that Aizen-san is searching for you.”

He considered the question in the ambient silence of the cave; did he believe his family would find him? Smiling at his hands as he thought of Kisuke and Shinji appearing in a typical action movie fashion he responded, “They’ll find me I know they will. No matter what.”

Ashido huffed a laugh at the honest response but didn’t say anything just stood up and moved to the other end of the cave where the bedding was kept. Staring at the Shinigami as he worked Ichigo felt Zangetsu’s encouragement as he worked up the courage to ask a question. One that had been sown the moment Ashido had spoken of his past.

“Would you… do you want to come with me… back to the human world? Or Soul Society? When they find me.”

The Shinigami stopped in his movement at the question, hovering over the blankets in the sudden silence. Ichigo didn’t know what to expect as an answer, he understood the reason why Ashido had chosen to stay in Hueco Mundo. But the sad truth of the matter was that with the lack of patrols in the mortal world his efforts likely weren’t influencing anything overall. And Ichigo couldn’t imagine living alone like this for centuries. No company, no one to talk to. Just yourself. Alone.

Ichigo wasn’t sure if he would understand why Ashido would say no but he would accept it because it would be the Shinigami’s choice. Zangetsu’s reaitsu whirled around Ichigo with something like pride and Ichigo hid a grin at the warmth it blossomed in his chest.

Slowly, Ashido turned away from the bedding and padded over to crouch in front of Ichigo. In the light of the fire, his dark hair seemed to glow and Ichigo thought he could see a bit of the man’s spirit coiled around the mask. A hand ruffled through his hair and Ashido smiled at Ichigo honest and achingly heartbreaking the man responded, “Thanks for the offer Ichigo.”

It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no. Ichigo grinned back and let the man lead him to where a mound of furs was resting. They would figure out everything tomorrow, for now, Ichigo was warm, fed, and he could sleep without worry. Peaking out from beneath the blankets Ichigo sleepily grinned at Ashido and whispered, “Thank you.”

X

The sand shook and trembled beneath Gin’s feet, it leapt into the air in small arches as the air boomed with a pressure that seemed to weigh on everything. They had finally stumbled on the kid, hidden in the Menos Forest of all places; Gin admired the kid’s drive to survive and stay out of Aizen’s reach. If he wasn’t driven by revenge, then Gin would have gotten out a long time ago. But he knew the role he played and there was no changing it, all that mattered was the end goal and the look on Aizen’s face when he died.

They were smoking the kid out, at least that was what Aizen related it to, and if Gin squinted a bit he could see smoke curling through the air like a vent. It would kill most of the Hollows beneath the sands, but the deaths of thousands of Hollows were inconsequential to Aizen. All the same, the Hollows gathered behind them shifted uneasily, either aching with hunger or at the destruction so casually wrought.

Their leader watched on, the glasses he wore in Soul Society tucked away for the moment, as he stared at the scene with manic eyes. It took one to know one. Kaname was in Soul Society, thankfully, after a situation had arisen in his division and the need to divert suspicion had arrived. It meant that Gin would be able to keep an eye on the kid and that he wouldn’t have to listen to the blind-man preach about justice. Tell it to the choir.

Ichigo Kurosaki. What an enigma, certainly the kind that was a touch too intriguing for Aizen. Then again in a roundabout sort of manner Aizen had helped create the kid. Did that mean he was the kid’s uncle? Gin doubted anyone would agree to that on either side. Aizen didn’t have a shred of paternal instinct inside him, in fact, anything empathetic or requiring emotional response was usually quite fabricated.

Still, the kid had the potential to defeat Aizen, and that in of itself warranted keeping an eye on the tyke. Gin knew Aizen was powerful, twice as cunning as a snake and just as vicious. He would wait for a moment of weakness to strike but the possibility that Soul Society would do nothing, and the kid would still slot into place was high. Revenge wasn’t as sweet when you weren’t wielding the blade yourself, but Gin supposed he could let it go if Aizen just went and died already.

With a loud crunch, the sand fell through leaving a wide gaping hole in the middle of Hueco Mundo. A few of the Hollows fell in, the weaker ones that hadn’t been picked off or cannibalized on the six-hour dash to the absolute middle of nowhere. They had almost made a detour a few hours back when the scent, so to speak, got confused and Gin had felt the huge reaitsu presence due east. Aizen had only shot it a considering look before they continued forward.

Now as the smoke drifted clearly from the hole into the crisp air Gin wished they had stopped. If only to escape the acrid sense of burning and the boring action of waiting. With a swing of Kyoka Suigetsu the smoke stopped, the smell drifted away, and the man directed the mass of Hollows into the darkness.

“Bring the boy back. Alive.”

He commanded in that clinical voice that could have been automated. Gin blinked letting his lidded gaze observe as the Hollows plunged through the darkness mindlessly. What did they have to fear of an illusion? So very much. Though Gin had come to find that certain aspects of Aizen’s illusions weren’t perfect, how could they be when a sociopath could only replicate what it didn’t understand. Not that Gin was very different.

Reaitsu exploded into the air, bright and wild, and so very young in a way that reminded Gin of the Rungokai brats, of himself and Rangiku. He opened his eyes at the sheer density of it, all compacted together into one focal point that was as powerful as a star. The kid had potential.

Sand exploded outwards and Gin let his eyes close firmly shut as his reaitsu reached out and located the fading presence of multiple Hollows and that of a Shinigami, and the kid. Shaking the dust off of his shihakusho and what he could out of his hair Gin peered at the scene before them.

A Shinigami stood in front of them, a Hollow mask over his features, and a pelt over his shoulders. He wasn’t overly powerful reaitsu wise, but Gin sensed something predatory that you didn’t normally find among the denizens of Soul Society. Behind the man was Ichigo. He was small like Gin had been once, and the pictures and video feed really didn’t do the kid justice when it came to how shockingly orange his hair was.

There was an unsheathed katana in both of their hands and the Shinigami looked a bit worse for wear. So, that concluded what had happened to the Hollows that had jumped into the gaping maw behind the kid.

Aizen was frowning, Gin could feel it. Unexpected complications as Aizen would say. Never good. Gin, however, was a fanatic when it came to unexpected complications. With a nod, the Hollows surged forward lumbering or sprinting like the mindless beasts they were.

“Do not kill the child.”

Was reiterated the words echoing in the emptiness of Hueco Mundo. Gin doubted any of the Hollows had heard or acknowledged the words. Not to mention the rather obvious loophole about eating the kid’s arm as long as he was still alive. But Gin remained silent, he wouldn’t interfere unless the kid was in danger. The rest was collateral damage.

The two moved in tandem, admirable teamwork for two people who had obviously recently met. The silver of their blades caught the light of the moon as they cut through the Hollows that surged forth, two for every one cut down, each with different augmentations; some of which were scientifically improved upon.

Gin could sense the kid’s eyes on them as he jumped over Hollows, a burst of kido flashing upon the sand and casting the pale white of everything into fluorescent hues. The way the kid’s eyes tracked Aizen with something that wasn’t fury but somewhere along the lines of righteous anger. The Shinigami at his side also seemed to glance at Aizen every so often, maybe he had known of them in Soul Society. If so then he was a loose end.

The kid was skilled Gin could devise that much from watching the kid weave carefully away from blow after blow, directing the energy elsewhere and utilizing every movement to his advantage. Kisuke had certainly taught the kid well, though he could also detect the influence of his former Captain and the other exiles. Gin blinked, his eyes slitting open as the kid moved in a manner that he hadn’t before as if he was being guided. It certainly lent credit to Aizen’s theory.

The fight began to drag on, the corpses of the Hollows were beginning to stack up around the two, who were visibly tiring. There was a cut on the Shinigami’s back and a scratch on the kid’s chin that would probably turn into a wicked scar. Gin wondered whether Aizen would let both forces exercise themselves into exhaustion before he stepped in. There was the perception he had all the time in the world, even amidst a cold war.

It happened quickly, almost in the blink of an eye. A Hollow got lucky and the kid was too slow, too exhausted. Shinsō slipped quickly from its scabbard and into Shikai without a word as Gin prepared to save the kid’s life. It would probably please Aizen. Unless he wanted the glory for himself or something to hold over the kid.

Reaitsu pulsed through the air and the Hollows in a semi-circle around the kid and the Shinigami disintegrated into dust. The reaitsu was bright blue, the pure kind that Gin had only read about and seen when he entered Mayuri’s office. He opened an eye and glanced at the kid whose eyes were glowing a pale blue even as he panted for breath. Huh, interesting.

Aizen quirked a brow at the unexpected display of power, Gin held little doubt the man was inordinately pleased beneath his cool veneer of polite humanity. The Shinigami stared in concern at the kid but kept his guard up; smart. The blue glow faded from the kid’s eyes and apparently taking that as a welcome sign of opportunity or a free buffet, the Hollows surged forward once more. The despair at the large force in front of the two was almost tangible.

A crack rent the air. Everything paused as if time itself hesitated in the face of the growing rip in the fabric of space, dark pulses of reaitsu surrounding the Garganta because that was all it could be, as it reached the size of a Senkaimon. From the shadows of the gate between worlds, a vaguely familiar mask appeared, the harsh white glowing in Hueco Mundo’s atmosphere as Hirako Shinji stepped onto the sands in the middle of the charging Hollows and the kid. 

“Aizen fancy meeting ya here.”

Shinji called out with a wide malevolent grin stretched across the features of his mask as the Hollows ground to a halt. The other Hollowfied Shinigami filed out behind the man excluding the Kido master, though in his place was Tsubaki Tessai. Well, this was unexpected.

“Kisuke sends his regards.”

Shinji added pleasantly, and Gin could feel the irritation that comment spiked in his gracious leader. Ichigo and the Shinigami were staring at the Hollowfied Shinigami in shock before the kid grinned, blindingly, Gin would argue, at the man and stated, “You did it!”

“I suppose this is your family then? One hell of a family kid.”

What It was Gin wasn’t exactly certain, but the vague notion and logical answer was that it was the opening of the Garganta. He elected to ignore the Shinigami’s comment about the kid’s family and debated whether he should use Shinsō and kill the loose end. Though, at this point, the loose ends were really rather becoming a knot in the plan. Aizen had recognized that fairly quickly, if his reaitsu was any indication.

Everyone was still frozen, the Hollows were waiting for commands, and a standstill had oriented itself between the two powerful factions on the barren stretch of Hueco Mundo. Aizen’s lips curled in displeasure and his hand drifted towards Kyoka Suigetsu which had been sheathed exactly thirteen minutes ago. There was nothing to grasp though because the zanpaktou was lying about thirty feet to the left where former lieutenant Kuna stood with it.

“It seems I have misplaced my katana.”

“Yeah, we weren’t a fan of the whole illusion-type zanpaktou. If ya don’t mind, we’ll be taking Ichigo and his friend now. Oh, and this probably caused a lot of activity so Soul Society might be looking your way.”

Shinji replied to the mild comment with a twitch of his fingers over the hilt of his katana, and the Hollowfied Shinigami shifted around him into battle ready stances. Well, it seemed the odds were stacked against them for once; though it was Urahara so there was little there to be surprised about. Aizen’s irritation bloomed sharp and stinging against Gin’s skin and he could almost see the plan his leader was formulating.

With a nod, the Hollows surged forward reaitsu crashing over the sands in a whirlwind. The Hollowfied Shinigami formed a wall sans Hirako who turned to the kid and the Shinigami and began ushering them towards the Garganta that still stood crackling and gnawing on empty space. Now they couldn’t let that happen.

Gin disappeared in a burst of shunpo and appeared in front of Hirako, whose blade snapped up to meet his own. The blond laughed even as he gestured for the other Shinigami to guard the kid.

“Ichimaru never did ditch the snake attitude huh.”

Shinji commented, his voice distorted as their blades intercepted in a blur of motion and behind them, reaitsu roared through the air in an arc of burning power. Gin grinned and with a flicker of his eyes he replied, “More of an ouroboros.”

The Hollowfied-Shinigami hesitated for a moment at the word and Gin pressed the advantage pushing Hirako away from the kid. Perhaps Aizen would step in. Perhaps not. It wasn’t Gin’s concern. Their blades continued to clash as around them Hollows collapsed into dust and the Hollowfied Shinigami mowed through their forces. Karma. If Gin focused, he could sense Kuna leading Aizen on a chase through their surroundings, holding his scabbard and disappearing before the man could catch up. Physical fighter his boss was not.

Then there was silence and Gin was kneeling in the sand, panting thinly as a blade rested at his neck. They both hadn’t gone into Shikai and they probably could but that would give away the game, wouldn’t it?

“S’bout time to return home y’all.”

Hirako called out to the other Hollowfied Shinigami in the silence where once an army of Hollows had stood. They filed past Gin and didn’t spare him a glance; it was all very professional and dramatic. Former lieutenant Kuna appeared last and they formed a semi-circle around the kid, the masks over their features glinted in the moonlight. Aikawa placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder and spoke to the Shinigami before he guided the two into the Garganta.

That’s when Aizen reappeared in typical dramatic fashion. Hirako hit the back of Gin’s head with the pommel of his katana. It wasn’t enough for unconsciousness but really it did hurt so, Gin decided to fall forward and let the two fight it out for a bit. The other Hollowfied Shinigami fled into the tear between worlds till only Sarugaki was waiting with her arms crossed and concern masked baldly on her features.

Rising to his feet slowly, after what Gin deemed an appropriate time, he tightened his grasp on Shinsō and joined the fight. Blades were flying as Aizen tried to drive them away from the Garganta which was slowly beginning to shrink in size, and between Hirako who swirled the motion of the fight towards the portal. Gin joining only added to the confusion as sand whirled through the air, and blades cracked and splintered against one another.

He could almost taste the desperation from his former Captain as the Garganta continued to shrink. It wasn’t known whether the portal had been opened by one of the Hollowfied Shinigami or Kisuke, but Gin was placing his bets on the first option. What was Hirako afraid of then Gin wondered. Sarugaki was already gone, inside the portal with the rest of them likely waiting for Hirako; because of teamwork or something.

A burst of reaitsu was all the warning Gin had before he plummeted to the ground as a beam of pure energy crackled overhead. He opened his eyes to peer at it as the heat transferred through his shihakusho; a cero. Well, that answered one question.

In a burst of shunpo, Hirako darted towards the Garganta as Aizen rose to his feet and followed. Gin stood at a leisurely measure and listened to the scream of reaitsu between the two as they raced forward. The Garganta snapped shut.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. Sorry not sorry about the cliff-hanger! Did you enjoy the events of this chapter? It was pretty fun to try writing from Gin’s perspective. I kind of imagine he uses reaitsu sensing to see, like echolocation. Was anything really surprising? Reviews/comments are always appreciated, till next time!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, we are here with the final chapter for this part. I apologize for not posting last week and leaving y’all on a cliffhanger. This chapter refused to be written, but here it is regardless. Eventually, sometime in the near future (hopefully), there will be a second part that will start off from chapter one Bleach; so, when Ichigo is fifteen. Until then I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo

X

Kensei shuffled into the room after a few minutes, his spirit, Tachikaze, hovered behind his wielder almost menacingly. Ichigo wasn’t quite certain who the spirit was attempting to menace. Lisa had just stalked out, so, maybe that explained Kensei’s hesitance. But in Ichigo’s opinion, the session with Lisa had been fruitful, a lot had been aired and there may have been a table thrown but at the end of it all, the normally stoic Vizard had seemed happy.

The grey-haired Vizard glanced once at the doorway as if contemplating escape before he settled on the couch Love had dragged in. The first meeting after everything had been in the living room, it had been chaotic with the spirits yelling and talking, their wielders mimicking the same action. It was better for everyone to do it privately where there were no outside distractions and where Ichigo could focus on one spirit at a time.

It was weird. Here he was, a nine-year-old attempting to give counselling to a couple of Shinigami who were centuries old. It sounded like something out of a reality show. But it was working, they were beginning to open up to their spirits and it in turn had opened a whole new world for the Vizard. Ichigo suspected that even without his intervention they would have eventually reached peace and negotiations. But he acted as a mediator where no one else could.

He wanted to help the Vizard and their spirits; his family. Seeing a weight lifted off their shoulders, the smiles that rang true, the way their spirits didn’t just hover. It felt justified, and worth it. After all, they had done the same for him. Scrubbing a hand through his hair Ichigo smiled in a welcoming manner at Kensei who returned the gesture with a faint curve of his lips.

“So, do you want to start with how you realised the bond between you two was wrong? We can try and go from there.”

Ichigo suggested, noting the way Tachikaze was refusing to look at his wielder. It seemed that unlike Mashiro, who was an outlier and should not be counted, there was still some buried hurt. Kensei huffed a bit at the request but nodded, his own eyes following Ichigo’s line of sight for a moment before it strayed to his own hands.

“We were fighting, beating each other bloody. And it just felt futile. It always happened that way, we didn’t speak often before; it was all communicated with intent. I guess I realised that my intent had never been to accept it or to understand. It had been to win, dominate, as you said. I fought; I didn’t let Tachikaze win because that wasn’t the answer; that was submitting. Instead, we came to a draw.”

Kensei spoke slowly, searching for the words, in a manner that hinted at his penchant for thought that few knew of. His story reminded Ichigo of what the other Vizard had told him of their own struggle to find a place of balance within their souls. It had all been about acceptance, taking away the cycle of hate and revenge, and apologizing. It was interesting how often they physically surrendered or tipped the power imbalance in their inner worlds; Kisuke would probably have a field day just theorizing about it all.

Shinji had accepted Sakande’s blade, Lisa had let her spirit kiss her (he didn’t really want to know or understand that one), Rose had succeeded the melody to his spirit to create a harmony, Love had a let his spirit crush him into the ground, and Hachi had made tea. Hiyori wasn’t there yet, and Ichigo wondered if her relationship with her spirit would ever improve. Mashiro had already established contact with her spirit long before he had been kidnapped but his kidnapping had been an impetus for her.

“I think in fighting to a draw you re-established your relationship. It became a partnership again, you are equal.”

Ichigo stated, something seemingly obvious, but Ichigo found that spelling it out sometimes helped. Kensei furrowed his brow as he acknowledged the words something like realisation sparking behind his eyes. Tachikaze stared at his wielder the plates of armour that had once tightly bound him were gone, in their place was something lighter like chainmail; weaved strands of pale stalks that seemed to shift with an invisible wind.

“Kensei,” Tachikaze started and Ichigo understood he would soon be playing translator, in the real-world communication seemed easier. The large spirit continued, “In the many years of silence between us, all that I could feel was hate. It was internalized in both of us to the point where I too was blinded.”

Ichigo relayed the words carefully, feeling the weight of the spirit’s gaze sombre and honest in equal measure; testing and exacting of Ichigo. Zangetsu curled around Ichigo glared protectively over his head like a cat and he resisted the urge to laugh as he watched Kensei process the words. The Vizard across from Ichigo straightened and for a moment he could see an echo of what had once been a Captain of the Gotei 13.

“I’m sorry.”

Kensei said and the words were heavy with reaitsu as the Shinigami stared at his hands and the hilt of his zanpaktou. Tachikaze blinked at the words, his appearance visibly rippling and shifting momentarily before the spirit nodded and spoke in return. Ichigo had a feeling everything would turn out all right between the zanpaktou spirit and wielder.

An hour later, Ichigo stretched as he stood up from the couch, Kensei had already left his eyes red as he searched out Mashiro. Slipping the door shut with a quiet click Ichigo basked in the warmth of Zangetsu’s arms around his shoulders as he entered the living room.

Shinji was leaning against the kitchen counter; the lamp overhead cast his hair and the tint of his eyes in gold as the man conversed with Lisa who looked five seconds away from pulling her zanpaktou on the man. Love and Rose were sandwiched together on the settee arguing with Hachi over something, probably someone’s taste in something. Mashiro was sitting upside down on the couch petting Kensei’s thigh where the man was determinedly pretending to read a book and wasn’t looking at anyone. Hiyori was in the kitchen and Ichigo was vaguely worried at the loud banging and the faint smell of smoke drifting from that area.

“Ichigo, which is better? Human vs Human? Or Human vs Nature?”

Love called in greeting flashing a bright grin as he waved at him. Ichigo furrowed his brows as he thought over the question and glided towards one of the seats. He was certain they had talked about this class at one point or another. Or Benihime had lectured something along the same line. Eventually, to a waiting audience, he answered, “Man vs society.”

“Aw man, that’s just not fair. That wasn’t even an option.”

Love complained even as Rose grinned triumphantly and Hachi shook his head with a demure grin. Ichigo smiled unrepentantly at the trio earning a resigned look from Love who shook his head and commented, “We’ll agree to disagree for now.”

“Are you still coming down to train with us Ichigo? Or will your father be upset?”

Rose questioned with a smile a beat after Love’s surrender. Ichigo nodded and beamed at the two as he responded, “Definitely you promised you would show me how you disarmed Hiyori last time. Besides I have a new technique I want to show you.”

“And your father?”

Hachi added his deep voice rumbling and filling up the room in a way that echoed home. Ichigo squished his lips together in a vague frown before he added; “It shouldn’t be a problem since tomorrow there’s no school. In any case, Karin has a soccer game tonight, so I need to leave to catch that.”

They nodded and returned to their conversation so Ichigo let his gaze sweep once more over the room. He felt safe, there were people, his family around him, it was warm and there were furniture and posters around him. He was home. He was safe.

If Ichigo needed to keep reminding himself of that if he woke up from nightmares of utter isolation if he couldn’t help but touch everything to see if it was real. Well, Ichigo knew that he would get better with time.

Jumping to his feet, Ichigo padded over to Shinji and Lisa, the latter of which had descended into a cold glare at the blond. Shinji turned to him with a grateful smile masked behind a grin and slung an arm around Ichigo’s shoulder.

“Hey Ichigo, we were just talking about ya.”

Shinji stated in a tone that clearly conveyed that he had not been the subject of conversation. Lisa frowned at Shinji, but her expression softened upon landing on Ichigo and she tussled a hand through his hair.

“How are you doing?”

Lisa asked softly bending so she could look into Ichigo’s eyes, the reflection of light on her glasses highlighting the barely-there smile at the curve of her lips. Ichigo shrugged and glanced away for a moment, his eyes searching out Zangetsu. Lisa didn’t press instead she ruffled Ichigo’s hair once more whirled around and glared at Shinji before stalking off. Ichigo giggled into his hand at Lisa’s actions as Shinji scowled at her retreating form.

“You sure ya okay Ichi?”

Shinji questioned, his eyes were elsewhere, and his fingers tapped an uncertain beat on the counter. Ichigo hummed for a moment before he replied, “I think I will be which is what’s important.”

The man in front of him huffed a shaky laugh and bent down to wrap his arms around Ichigo, his reaitsu pulling itself close like a blanket. Ichigo ignored the dampness on his cheeks as Shinji whispered, “We’re not ever going to let that happen again Ichigo. We’ll protect you, and make sure you can protect yourself.”

Shinji pulled back for a moment and grinned, broad and full of teeth. Ichigo wiped away his tears and smiled back.

X

Uryū felt Kurosaki’s eyes on him throughout the class, they were there piercing the back of his head as he dutifully noted their sensei’s lecture on the water table and its economical variations. His notes were even and neat, perfect almost, and Uryū vindictively reminded himself that his father probably wouldn’t care if his notes were the equivalent of chicken scratch. His eyes flickered towards the clock as he continued to feel the gaze of his classmate, Kurosaki’s reaitsu; which had always been a large presence, had been hidden somewhat recently but it was there nonetheless, focused on Uryū.

The bell rang sharp and shrill; the teacher halted in her lecture and glanced about lost for a moment before dismissing the class. Uryū placed his supplies away slowly, meticulously and prepared to pull out his lunch before he decided that it was better to have Kurosaki confront him elsewhere so the whole class wasn’t there to witness it. Uryū tugged his backpack over his shoulders; leaving it alone for even a minute is a temptation too tantalizing for the local bullies to resist.

Kurosaki and his large friend, Yasutora, followed behind Uryū in a manner that was far from inconspicuous, Uryū doubted it was on purpose. The young student paused outside the school gates and waited dismissively for his classmate to arrive. Briefly, he wondered why Kurosaki was seeking him out. They had never spoken within school, and Uryū only vaguely recalled seeing Ichigo at his aunt’s funeral. Though they were cousins it was hardly acknowledged among either family.

Though there was the insistence a few weeks past where Kurosaki’s younger siblings were at their house for a night, and Kurosaki wasn’t at school for a few days. Perhaps it was related to that. Maybe the boy, in an idea of honour had come to thank him for looking after his sisters. It would suit Kurosaki’s character.

The orange hair was visible from a mile away, as was the hulking form of Yasutora. Kurosaki halted in front of Ishida with an expression that was closed off but a contrast to the harsh frown he often sported in school.

“Kurosaki. Yasutora,” Uryū intoned raising a brow in question. Kurosaki frowned and glanced around the area his eyes sharp in a way that reminded Uryū of his father for a brief moment.

“Is there anywhere private we can speak Ishida?”

Uryū was suspicious and it must have shown on his features for Kurosaki frowned and added, “It’s about spiritual stuff.”

It was slightly surprising that Kurosaki knew about the spiritual world, he had never given such an inclination in their previous interactions. Uryū supposed it had something to do with his father or Uryū’s heritage. Still, there was the question of how Kurosaki knew that Uryū was also aware of that world’s existence. Nodding with a muted sigh Uryū adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose and led the two into a small alleyway before turning to face them with an expectant gaze.

Kurosaki frowned and stared at the opposite wall, Yasutora was a silent support behind the smaller boy, Kurosaki sighed once his eyes dark in the shade of the alleyway before he began, “I suppose you noticed I was absent for a few days a couple of weeks ago?” Uryū nodded, Kurosaki continued, “Well to put it simply I was kidnapped by a not-so-nice Shinigami and taken to Hueco Mundo.”

Uryū processed the information with a wide-eyed stare. Kidnapped, Kurosaki had been kidnapped the idea felt ludicrous and yet Uryū couldn’t doubt the sincerity of Kurosaki’s words. His thoughts warred with each other for a moment before he gestured for Kurosaki to continue. Yasutora settled a hand on Kurosaki’s shoulder and the smaller boy smiled gratefully at the giant of a boy and he began again, “Why I was kidnapped isn’t so important right now. When I was there, I escaped and I ended up in the middle of Hueco Mundo with a Shinigami who had been there for a century alone, fighting the Hollows. An army of Hollows appeared; I was fighting the Hollows and one snuck up on me. It probably would have killed me but my reaitsu did something… different. Ossan, my spirit, suggested I speak to you about it.”

It hadn’t been obvious Kurosaki had been part of that world, the one his grandfather trained him in but hearing Kurosaki’s words he realised that the boy in front of him was likely far more involved than Uryū, and with the Shinigami. He couldn’t help the bitterness that settled into his gut at the thought of them but pushed it aside long enough to satiate his curiosity. It seemed that Yasutora was also aware of that world for he showed no surprise at Kurosaki’s story. Sighing Uryū adjusted the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, he wondered what he was getting into, and said, “Show me.”

Kurosaki blinked as if he hadn’t expected Uryū to agree to his request; with a nod the boy held his hand in front of him. Reaitsu coiled in the air, familiar blue reaitsu appearing in his palm; it flickered like a small flame before guttering out. It made sense Uryū supposed if one knew anything about biology, which with his father’s profession Uryū knew more than a little. Kurosaki’s mother had been a Quincy (he knew this only because of the book with the family tree) so the likelihood of Kurosaki inheriting that bloodline as the firstborn child was extremely high.

“I think you’ve managed to manifest the Quincy portion of your inheritance.”

“Again, plainly please?”

Kurosaki requested even as Uryū could see some sign of comprehension in Kurosaki’s brown eyes. Sighing Uryū reiterated, “Your mother was a Quincy. You know about our race, don’t you?” Kurosaki nodded with a half-smile that suggested very little knowledge, and he continued, “It is likely that blue reaitsu, different from your regular reaitsu in whatever way you’ve identified, is from your mother.”

“My mom.”

Kurosaki stated in a tone that was familiar though Uryū refused to acknowledge such. Uryū supposed it would be wise to at least introduce Kurosaki to Sōken so that his grandfather could decide if Kurosaki had any potential. Uryū didn’t hate Kurosaki, but he wasn’t familiar with him as well. However, if Kurosaki had any potential as a Quincy then it was Uryū’s duty to try and preserve the tradition and culture of their race.

A roar sounded at the end of the alleyway surprising them all, for a moment Uryū hoped it was the school bell ringing and signifying the end of the conversation. He knew it was otherwise as he turned and materialized his bow, blue reaitsu shifting unstably as he tried to form a proper bow. Kurosaki stared at it for a moment with wide awed eyes before he also turned to face the Hollow an unsealed katana materializing in his hands, Yasutora covered the rear staring sightlessly at the alleyway before flicking his gaze to Kurosaki.

The Hollow lumbered forward, fast even for its large size. Uryū waited and watched as Ichigo darted forward kicking into the air only to narrowly avoid a large fist as he kicked off the brick wall. Uryū gathered his reaitsu and released the arrow; it split the air and lodged itself in the Hollow’s arm. It moved quickly in a blur and tossed Kurosaki overhead at Uryū, Yasutora rushed forward to stand in front of Kurosaki arms held in front of him.

Kurosaki pointed and spat out hasty directions and Uryū watched somewhat astonished as Yasutora’s fist landed a blow to the Hollow’s abdomen even as he readied another arrow. A roar split the mid-afternoon air as in a burst of reaitsu Kurosaki leapt above the Hollow and let his blade cleave through its mask.

With a howl of wind that whistled through the alleyway, the Hollow dissipated leaving only the sound of their panting to fill the silence. The katana in Kurosaki’s hand disappeared as the boy flashed a bright smile at Yasutora and Uryū, eyes alight with adrenaline and something else. For a moment, Uryū couldn’t help but smile at his cousin’s contagious enthusiasm. Yasutora hummed with a nod and stepped closer to Ichigo to check the boy over for injuries.

In the distance, Uryū could hear the school bell ringing, summoning them back to classes. Uryū wanted to be mad at Ichigo who had occupied all of Uryū’s lunch but the knowledge they had prevented a hollow from consuming an innocent soul eased the irritation. Ichigo turned to face the school building before his eyes flickered to Uryū questioning and open like an outstretched hand between them.

Adjusting the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose Uryū sighed and stated, “I suppose I should take you to meet my grandfather.”

X

In the low-light of the Shōten, the steam wafting from the food spread over the table whispered like smoke. Ichigo smiled proudly at the spread of mouth-watering food, misty miso soup ladled into small bowls, rice clumped together with pork laid out over it still sizzling, vegetables crispy collected into smaller serving dishes, a bright burst of colour against pale grey cutlery, and a table full of people who were important to Ichigo.

Yuzu who was sitting beside Ichigo was also smiling; they had spent half the day in the kitchen together listening to Benihime’s stories as Ashido’s spirit hovered nearby. The others stared impressed and Ichigo wondered if this was how his mother had felt whenever she prepared a meal for them. He hoped she was proud of the meal of the way they were showing their love for their family.

Karin, squished beside their father, flashed the two of them a smile, the expression shifting her features from the frown that normally resided there into something youthful and bright. Their father was beaming and Ichigo held little doubt that if they had been at home the man would have been blubbering in front of the giant poster of their mom. Ashido, seated to his left stared at the food with wide disbelieving eyes, as if the sheer quantity alone was shocking; it probably was.

The door slid open with a clack and Kisuke entered fluttering a fan in front of his features even as his eyes widened with pleasant surprise at the spread on the table. Behind the man came Tessai holding Jinta and Ururu under each arm. They were the same age as the twins and had simply appeared one day; Benihime wouldn’t tell him if they were real children though they certainly acted like such. Yoruichi entered last, as if an empress gracing mere mortals with her presence, she winked at Ichigo and glided to a seat.

“Ma this is quite a spread thank you Yuzu, Ichigo.”

Kisuke stated as he settled into his seat with a flutter of his haori. Ichigo grinned in response as Yuzu ducked her head with a blush. Jinta and Ururu settled into their spots, Jinta with a wide grin as he devoured the table with his eyes, and Ururu with a shy smile directed at the twins, Tessai settled between the two with a nod at Ichigo.

With everyone seated they began eating, the food was delicious but Ichigo preferred to observe as everyone around him enjoyed the food. He listened silently to the adults quietly confer about new security measures they had placed on the town; Kisuke’s inventions, kido barriers, the occasional sweep, and guard-duty. He listened to Ururu and Yuzu discuss the food and their favourite TV show while Jinta and Karin argued over which sport was the best. Ashido on Ichigo’s side leaned over and ruffled a hand through his hair gathering his attention.

“Thank you.”

The Shinigami said quietly and earnestly, his features open in the happy atmosphere of the Shōten, his spirit hovered beside him pale grey cloth that seemed to shift into nonsensical patterns. Ichigo grinned at Ashido and replied quietly, “Your welcome. Try the tempura.”

Ashido laughed the sound hearty and deep bounding from his chest above the light chatter. Ichigo was suddenly inexplicably happy that the Shinigami had agreed to stay in Karakura town at the Shōten. Ashido’s dedication to his squad was more than admirable, it was something men as great as Kisuke would likely never accomplish and Ichigo respected Ashido immensely for it. But everyone needed to return home.

Eventually, the dinner wound to a close, the plates were cleared, and light chatter filled the air as Tessai returned from the kitchen with a tray of tea and coffee. Wordlessly Karin and Yuzu began to gather the dishes speaking to each other without words and glaring at Ichigo when he tried to stand and help. The steady sound of water through a tap lingered in the background as Yoruichi began to debate with Tessai and Ashido over the proper way to cast kido.

After a moment, Ichigo felt his father’s hand on his shoulder. There was something warm in the eyes that gazed down at him, they had never been close, Ichigo had always had mom and the twins had dad, but he knew his father still loved him. The crinkle at the corner of his eyes seemed to say it all before his father turned away and headed into the kitchen to bother the twins.

Kisuke slipped out of the room with a near silent click that was only audible to Ichigo above Jinta and Ururu’s conversation because he had been watching his mentor. Glancing at his hands for a moment Ichigo shifted in his seat, his gaze flickered and casually observed everything. Eventually, to Zangetsu’s gentle prodding Ichigo rose to his feet and slipped out the same door following Kisuke.

The porch was illuminated in golden light from a nearby lantern and the silhouette of Kisuke, pale smoke curling in front of his features, and the Veridian of his haori and hat held a tranquillity that Ichigo couldn’t place. He settled beside Kisuke in silence, feeling the chill of the night seeping through his t-shirt in the quiet between them.

“Do you think he’ll come after me again?”

Ichigo questioned tugging Zangetsu’s haori closer to his chest in the cool air of the night. Kisuke beside Ichigo shrugged off his haori and placed it on Ichigo’s shoulders his gaze was on the stars above them, some already gone though they weren’t able to see it. An invisible death so close to what Ichigo had almost experienced.

“Almost certainly…But, not for a little while. He’ll need to recreate his forces, and he’ll have to tread carefully. Soul Society is aware that something happened in Hueco Mundo, it’s likely someone there knows the exact details, and besides that, the Vizard are now able to use Hollow based techniques. It certainly won’t be easy for the man even with his zanpaktou.”

Ichigo nodded and ignored the disappointment the answer brought, he didn’t ignore the fear because it was real and there was no point in ignoring reality. He would just become strong enough that he wouldn’t have to fear Aizen. Kisuke seemed to sense Ichigo’s thoughts for he was staring at him with those eyes that almost twinkled if they were not so cutting and added, “We’ll protect you, do everything in our not inconsiderable power to prevent it from happening again. And we’ll make sure you’re prepared.”

“Soul Society will get involved too won’t they?”

“Yes, the chips will fall, now, ten years, a century, who knows? But this cold war has been brewing for a long time Ichigo and perhaps it runs even deeper than Aizen, a systematic problem rooted in Soul Society itself. It’s hard to say. But because of who you are, what your heritage entails… I’m sorry Ichigo but you will be involved. It’s how you choose to act that matters. Just know that we will support you every step of the way”

Ichigo nodded and leaned into Kisuke, the smell of tobacco faint as the embers glowed like fireflies. He would protect his family, and if that meant going up against Soul Society and every other entity in the world Ichigo would do so. A hand ruffled through Ichigo’s hair and he gazed at the graveyard of stars and promised that his family wouldn’t be eternal, but they would live and be all the brighter for it.

X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you all enjoyed the first part of this fic, it was really fun to write, and I want to thank LittleUnknownFighter for requesting me to write this. A Special thanks to everyone who reviewed and commented, you guys made this fic amazing! The next part as stated earlier will start when Ichigo is fifteen. Until then, thank you all!


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